One day I'll go home
by The Reckless Loser
Summary: In 1983, Alex and the others said they would never leave the Guv's side. In 1986, Gene and Alex are happily married with their 2 year old child, Andrew Stuart Hunt. After a run in with a murdering drug lord, Gene and Alex are filled with fear for their son as their newly built world is slowly burnt to the ground. Galex! Chris/Shaz, Ray/Who-ever-he-has-his-eyes-on. Read and Review!
1. Chapter 1

**One day I'll go home**

**A/N: Hello everyone! Now, here is my first Ashes to Ashes story, so I shall do all I can to keep this story as realistic and as awesome as the series itself! This story is going to be a love for those of you who love Gene/Alex, Chris/Shaz and Ray/who-ever-he-has-his-eyes-on. This is going to be one of those stories where Alex, Chris, Shaz and Ray never left as I cried at the end and still cannot contain my emotions whenever I re-watch the series. This is going to be a family story, Alex and Gene, and their son Andrew 'Andy' Stuart Hunt. **

**I hope you will all enjoy this story and please leave your reviews so I know what you think :)**

**Enjoy! **

**DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN ASHES TO ASHES, SONG OR SERIES :( **

**This story is rated K+, probably from Ray being Ray. **

One day I'll go home

Chapter 1

_1986 _

For the second time that night, Alex sighed in bliss as she sipped her second glass of wine that evening. She glanced to her left to see her husband, flat out, on the sofa, softly snoring. His dark honey-blonde hair had fallen into his eyes, and Alex reached out her hand to stroke it back when the gruff voice of the man she loved spoke, shocking her as she hadn't noticed him stop snoring.

'Ya know it's rude to stare, Bolly.' Gene Hunt opened his eyes and smiled at his wife before sitting up on the sofa, groaning as he stretched out his legs.

'Pretending to sleep to spy on people is rude as well, you know?'

'I'm a copper Bolls. It's my job.' Gene smiled as he stood up, stretching his arms. He bent over the small table as he poured himself a glass of amber whiskey. He fell back onto the sofa, draping one arm around the shoulders of Alex as the other held onto his drink.

They focused their eyes back onto the flickering screen of their television, which had continuously held the attention of one other person.

A small body was sitting in front of the screen, eyes glued to the colours of the film which was playing. Alex glanced up at the clock mounted up on the living room wall and saw it was nearly eight. She placed her glass of wine down on the small coffee table before rising.

'I think someone is in need of a bath.' She smiled as the small body turned around, horror on his face.

'No!' The small boy cried, climbing to his feet and running from the room as fast as his little legs would allow. Alex smiled at her husband who stood to his full height and chased after the two year old.

As she climbed the stairs of her home, Alex couldn't keep the smile of her face as she began to run the bath. Two years she'd lived in a perfect life. She and Gene had gotten married and happily moved in with one another into Gene's house as it was bigger than her flat. Now they had a small son, Andrew, or Andy.

The small boy was one of the best things that had happened to her in her time in the eighties. Andy had gained his father's hair and reckless behaviour, but gained his mother's eyes and some of her self-control. But some days that self-control of her son's was stretched, she thought as Gene came into the bathroom, carrying the squirming little boy in his arms. The boy put up a great fight not to get into the water as he kicked his little legs out.

Once he was undressed, Gene dropped the boy into the soapy warm water. Andy pulled a small plastic submarine from the side of the bath and began making the toy splash over the water. Alex smiled again as she watched her husband play with their son, making the toy dive in and out of the rippling water. Gene still had the tough act on at work, but when around his son and wife he was a different person, and Alex loved both versions of Gene Hunt, the Manc lion and the caring Husband/father.

As Gene played with the boy, distracting him, Alex soaked a sponge and began washing the body of her tiny son. Andy giggled at the yellow sponge and squeezed the soft fabric. The boy's giggling rose up more when the shampoo was added to his hair, his mother pulling up his thick blonde locks into a pointed Mohawk style.

Getting Andy into the bath was one problem, but getting him out was another. The boy could never make his mind up, but after five minutes of splashed water and a strop, Andy was in a clean pair of pyjamas and half asleep in Alex's arms. The young boy had experienced a hectic day, as it was his second birthday. The boy had been out of his bed at the crack of dawn. Everyone commented on how Andy had the energy of an older child than a two year old, and she supposed he got it off Gene.

Alex tucked the small boy into his bed before switching on the small lamp and pulling an old book off the shelf. Turning to the right page, Alex picked up where she left off as she read The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe. Reading this book to the sleepy child reminded her of when her own father had read her the story when she was little. He'd put the right voices to the right characters and that made bedtime magical for her, just waiting to pick up where they'd left off the night before.

Half way through the new chapter, Alex looked down to see the head of her son had dropped against her arm in his sleep. Humming to herself as she tucked the boy into bed, Alex never heard Gene move into the room and lean against the door frame.

'Doesn't cry through the night, pure bliss thank god.' Gene grinned as he wrapped his arms around the waist of his wife, his Bolly. The two just stood there for about ten minutes, watching the gentle breathing of their son. Just his sleeping form told them what he was like: the way he spread his limbs out suggested Gene Hunt, but the way he had a small smile on his face suggested Alex Drake.

Eventually the two of them backed out of the room, quietly closing the door with a silent click.

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'Chocolate!' Andy yelled happily as he pushed away the bowl of porridge Gene tried to make his son eat.

'You can't have chocolate at this time lad! Your mother will kill me if I let you munch all that again.' Andy crossed his arms and refused to eat the food. Gene sighed and pulled his son out of the high chair. The boy was most difficult at breakfast; it made bath time look like a smooth sail.

Alex was just walking down the stairs when Gene wandered into the corridor, pulling a little denim jacket onto Andy. As both parents worked, Andy would spend days at the station with them until he was old enough to go to nursery and then school.

Once the house was locked, Gene pulled back the front seat of the Quattro as he fastened Andy into his car seat. The boy had settled down now and was playing with a small miniature Audi Quattro which Ray had given him yesterday.

With a child in the back, Alex and anybody else would expect Gene to lower the speed of the Quattro, but if anything the man just went faster, the laughs from their son in the back just encouraging him.

'One day we'll end up dead in this thing!' Alex cried as they sped round a corner, nearly hitting some teenagers. By god she was glad once they reached the station.

As they walked through the doors of the station, Andy gripped the white leather of his mother's jacket as in the main reception there was a large crowd of young men all yelling and pushing about, Viv and other constables trying to maintain control.

'Oi!' Gene yelled, adopting the Manc Lion stance. 'Shut it! All of you!' The room quietened down, but the air was still tense and rowdy.

Once they waded their way through the thick crowd, they managed to make it into CID, the room smoky and barley occupied at the early hours. Chris was at his desk, Walkman on and eyes shut. Gene strode forward and pulled on the headphones so they snapped back onto Chris's sleeping face. The young man gave a small snort of surprise and fell out of his seat.

'Had a nice nap did we Christopher?' Gene asked, his voice dripping with his trademark sarcasm.

'Sorry Guv.' Chris muttered as he began shifting through files, just as Ray came through from the kitchenette, cup of tea in hand.

'Here, Guv.' He said, pointing at the whiteboard which was littered with pictures of a dead girl's body and mug shots of a man with long, lanky hazel hair. 'That lass who got killed, they found a small cut on the back of 'er neck, shape of a balloon, Brice's trademark.' Alex took the photo of the cut into her spare hand and studied the shape. It was distinctively like a balloon, but dodgy, like it had been rushed.

'So we have Jonathan Brice's trademark printed on a girl who was seen talking to him two hours before she got her head bashed. Any other witnesses come out of the woodwork?'

'None yet Guv, Chris and me were going to check out the pub 'cross the road from where she was found.' Gene turned his head and saw Chris nodding eagerly.

'Alright, but take Genie boy here with you,' Gene said as he pulled Andy away from Alex and into the arms of Ray. 'And don't approach Brice if you see him, god knows if we pull him in without good evidence then he'll itch to get them smart-arsed lawyers of his out.'

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Ray and Chris sat in the farthest booth inside the Queen's Army pub, Andy next to Chris who was playing him his Walkman.

'Ball!' Andy called out, pointing to the football match on the telly above the bar. The boy must have recognised the colours of Manchester City as he laughed when the crowd roared at the goal. Ray chuckled at the boy as he dragged on a cigarette. He was already a Man City supporter like his dad. The Guv was already teaching him to laugh at any Man Untied supporters when City goaled.

'Chocolate!' Andy cried out as he saw Chris rustling a packet in his pocket.

'Soz Andy, Ma'am will kill us if we give you chocolate without her say so.'

'Chocolate!' Andy cried out again, this time higher pitched, suggesting tears.

'Just give him the stuff you Div.' Ray muttered, not wanting D.I. Drake to wonder why her son had been crying in their company. Chris snapped a piece of the Cadburys chocolate off and gave it to the eager little boy who happily munched away.

'Blimey, look at the tits on them!' Ray barked as a group of twenty-something year old girls huddled into the pub, all laughing. The two men stared at the girls, Chris began to blush and turned his head away, his mind wandering to Shaz, whilst Ray kept his eyes on the group and waved his hand when the girls caught his eye.

As Chris fiddled with his Walkman and Ray continuously stared at the girls, Andy heard the promising rustle of a wrapper. The two year old left his small toy car on the pub table as he jumped off the bench and toddled away. He walked around the bar to where a group of men were sitting on stools, muttering but occasionally bursting out laughing whilst looking at the girls at the bar.

One man with long, lanky hazel hair pulled out a Cadbury's bar and snatched a bite of the treat. He placed the remains back into his pocket and turned back to his friends. Andy toddled over and reached out his hand into the pocket where the wrapper was. As he pulled out the purple wrapping, a small folded pocket knife fell to the floor. Curious, Andy picked up the blade and looked closely, not understanding what it was. The small boy shoved the knife into his pocket as his attention fixed back onto the chocolate packet which lay at his feet.

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Chris heard the click of his walkman and knew the tape had fully backed up. He pulled the headphones from around his neck and turned to where Andy had been sitting.

'Hey Andy, do you want to listen to...Oh Shit. Ray!'

'Hmm?' Ray murmured as he blew out a billow of smoke, not taking his eyes of the girls.

'Where's Andy?'

'Next to you, bloody Div.'

'But he ain't here.' Ray snapped his head round and looked at the spot where their Boss' son had been sitting before.

'Shit. Where's he gone?'

'I don't know!' Chris cried, not prepared to imagine what the Guv and Drake would do when they found out they'd lost their son...again.

'It's the fair all over again!' Chris cried as he re-called losing Andy at the fair.

'Shut it and find him!' The pair stood and began looking under the tables of the pub.

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Andy sat under a stool as he happily munched the chocolate. From his hiding place he saw his 'Uncle' Ray and 'Uncle' Chris wandering in some sort of panic. Discarding the wrapper, Andy crawled out from under the stool and toddled over to Chris. The man spun when he heard his named called and relief folded his face when he looked down to see the blonde head of Andrew Hunt.

'Hey buddy, where did you go?' Chris smiled as he picked the toddler up, but he was still slightly shaking. He didn't want to be yelled at like the Guv and Drake did when he said he'd lost Andy at the fair.

'Chocolate!' Andy grinned as he licked his fingers, removing the last traces of the sweet.

'I've got 'im Ray!' Chris yelled happily, holding the two year old above his head like a trophy. Ray jogged over and breathed a sigh of relief at seeing Andy was unharmed.

'Where the bloody hell do you go to?' Ray asked the kid who wandered over to their booth to collect his toy, not responding.

'Where was he?' Ray asked Chris, who pointed to where Andy had appeared.

'Oh Shit.' Sitting on the stool was Jonathan Brice. The middle-aged man was sipping a pint of beer, acting all cool, despite it was known he killed the young girl last week.

'Come on, let's go.' Chris said, backing away to hold Andy's hand. But Ray strolled forward and pulled Brice off his stool.

'You murderin' bastard!' Ray cried as he swung a punch at Brice. The man fell to the ground momentarily before standing to his full height and throwing his fist straight back at Ray.

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'One stupid, bloody instruction: Don't go near Brice. And what do you do, Raymondo, you throw a bleedin' punch at the bloke!' Gene stood in the centre of CID, glaring down at Ray who had gained a small cut above his left eye in the fight.

'I'm sorry, Guv. The bastard was just sittin' there like he'd done nothin'. I just needed to give the murderin' scum a proper punch. He deserved it.' Once Brice had begun to fight back in the Queen's Army, Chris had radioed for back-up. They'd arrived back at CID to an angry Gene Hunt.

Alex sat at her desk with Andy on her lap, pushing his toy car back and forth on his mother's desk. Alex gentle jogged her leg, earning small giggles from her son. The doors of CID swung open and D.C. Shaz Granger walked into the room, her arms held down with files. At the sight of Shaz, Andy jumped off his mother's leg and trotted over to his Godmother. Shaz dropped her files on her desk and picked up the excited two year old who happily swung in her arms.

'Guv,' Shaz called out, hoping the sight of his son in her arms would cool off some of the Manc Lion's anger. 'Jonathan Brice is in the interview room.' Gene hid his face in the palms of his hands and huffed. He barged back into his office for a swing of drink and picked up his suit jacket.

'Come on Bolly.' Alex left her desk and followed her husband out of CID and into the interview room. Watching his parents leave the room, Andy wriggled away from Shaz who was now watching Chris balance a football on his head, the small boy exited through the open doors and followed his parents, unaware of what danger he could be in if he continued to follow his parents.

**A/N: There we go, I hope you enjoyed that. This is my first Ashes to Ashes story so I hope I've got all the characters right :) please take a moment to Review and check out my other stories. I'll try to update again soon, your Reviews will make the next come faster. **

**Until the next time,**

**Peace out Peeps xox **


	2. Chapter 2

**One day I'll go home **

**A/N: Hello Hello! Within the first hour of the first chapter I already gained a review, so thanks to Emma (Guest) who said she'd enjoyed the first part! I had this story running through my head all through school today so I thought I would grace you all with an update, being the kind person I am. So some action will happen here and I hope you will all like it!**

**Enjoy!**

One day I'll go home

Chapter 2

_1986_

'Kathy North. Nineteen. Murdered.' Gene Hunt sat in the interview room; his wife next to him, taking note of the body language Brice used for her Psychological profile, which Gene still thought was a waste of time. The murderer was leaning back in is seat, puffing on a cigarette, enjoying life, whilst a nineteen year old girl was dead by his hand.

'We know you did it, Jonathan.' Alex tried the nice approach, thinking Brice would open up and confess. Gene only wanted to give Brice a good punch up as Ray had in the pub. Maybe a few smacks would loosen his tongue. Jonathan Brice just faced Gene and Alex, not saying anything as he dragged on his roll-up.

'I want to call my lawyer.' He said, not looking them in the eye, too interested with his smoke.

'And I want to see you behind bars and I think I know who is going to win this out.' Gene grumbled. 'You've got about a good chance of waking out of here as Man Untied becoming the worlds greatest team, so don't get your hopes up.' Brice gave the Manc Lion a small smirk before stamping the last cinders of his cigarette out in the ash tray.

'Now, Mr. Hunt, I don't think you've got any evidence against me, so why don't we forget this never happened and I won't call my lawyer and tell him to chat to your Super.' Brice leaned over the table, smiling at Gene, his eyes cold and empty. Gene grabbed the man's shirt and pulled him straight across the table. Brice only had a moment to cry out before Gene smashed the man's face against the wall of the interview room.

'Listen here you piece of scum,' Gene spat as Brice whimpered. 'You had better confess otherwise I'm going to let you experience firsthand what you did to that girl, see how you like it.' Brice was pulled from the wall and thrown over the table.

'Daddy?' Gene whipped his head around to see Andy standing in the doorway, the two year old swaying on his feet. Alex stood up to hold her son back, but the small boy protested, crying: 'No Mummy, want Daddy.' Before toddling forward towards Gene and tugging on his trouser leg.

'Daddy.' The little boy stretched out his arms, wanting to be picked up. Alex stuck her head round the interview room door and called for a plod. Seconds later a constable entered, cuffed Brice and held him upright as the man was ditsy on his feet. Gene picked up Andy who buried his face in his father's shoulder. As he was dragged from the room, Gene saw Brice stare at him, a look of disgust and shock on his face as he was frogmarched towards the cells.

It wasn't common knowledge in the underworld of Gene Hunt being married and being a father, so Brice held back most shock as he was shoved in a cell.

Hunt would regret this; he'd make sure of it. Brice grumbled to himself as the heavy set door of the cell swung shut.

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Gene wiped his face with one hand as the other hugged his boy around the middle, holding the boy close to his chest.

'I'm going to get a confession out of that Bastard if it kills me.' The man growled as they left the interview room. Alex sent a glare at her husband, warning him for the hundredth time about swearing around Andy's ears. They walked into CID where everyone was just shovelling paperwork around, waiting out the last five minutes before lunch. Gene slammed the door to his office open, releasing the stronger smell of alcohol and tobacco into the rest of the department. The man collapsed into his seat, Andy sat on the edge of the man's knee as Gene threw back a glass of amber liquid.

'The thing is Bolls,' Gene murmured as he poured himself another drink. 'That sick-headed twat has killed before, and I bet my car that he'll kill again. I promised the folks of that last kid that I'd get the psycho who killed their daughter.' He gulped back another drink. 'That bastard belongs behind bars and I'm determined to make sure it happens.' Alex smiled sympathetically as she sat on the edge of his desk.

'I'll look through past convictions, maybe there's something hidden in paperwork.'

'Don't get your hopes up, Bolls. He's a sly bastard if I ever saw one. He's probably burned the murder weapon and thrown the remains in the river.' Alex reached out her hand and stroked Gene's cheek. The man sighed and looked his wife in the eye. He gave her a small smirk before leaning in and softly kissing her on the lips. Alex moved her hand up behind Gene's neck as his hand began to tangle in her chestnut curls. They slowly parted, smiling into each other's eyes.

Gene leaned back in his seat, still grinning as Alex jumped off his desk and headed for the door.

'I'm going down the Queen's Army; maybe somebody has heard anything which will help us nail Brice.' Gene nodded as she blew a kiss at Andy before leaving.

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Thirty minutes into lunch, Gene sat in the Quattro, outside a local Bakery where he had purchased two egg fried butties. One for himself and the other for Andy. He had moved the boy's car seat into the front so he could keep an eye on him as he chewed on the bread and egg.

Gene fiddled with the radio until he found some music; a song he distinctively remembered from 1964 came on air, _House of the Rising Sun_ by _the Animals_. He raised his brow at the memories of the sixties, but didn't change the station as Andy had started to laugh as he enjoyed the music. Gene watched with curiosity as his son swayed to the music and fiddled with his small toy car, despite he was sitting in the full scale thing.

The boy really was a wonderful thing, Gene thought to himself. He made him and Bolly a family. He'd always wanted to have children, but his _EX_-wife had disagreed. But now he had Andy and he felt life was complete for him.

'_Christ Hunt you've gone soft.' _Gene thought to himself as he watched a group of teenagers mess about on bikes at the end of the road.

The Manc Lion was shook out of his thoughts by cries from Andy. The man turned to his son's help, only to sigh to see the boy was unharmed, but had only dropped his toy down the side of the car seat. He leaned over his son, cursing away, to retrieve the toy when he saw it. Sticking out the pocket of his denim shorts, half tucked under his jumper featuring _The Muppets, _was a small folded Swiss Army Knife. Gene pulled the knife out of his son's pocket as he dropped the toy on Andy's lap.

The knife was grubby with fingerprints from hands much larger than Andy's. Gene flicked through the different blades until the last one shocked him to the core; it was sticky with dried blood. Just as he was to inspect the blade more, a bang sounded to the side of his car and Gene was out in an instant, stepping out into the midday light of late September.

'Oi!' The Manc Lion bellowed at the group of teens, all of who were grinning manically. Pulling out his warrant card, the group scarpered away like antelopes from a hungry Lion. Gene grimaced as he wandered back to his car. Just as he opened the door his radio buzzed with static before being interrupted by the sound of Chris Skelton's voice.

'_Guv? Come in Guv.' _

'What is it Chris?' Gene replied. 'I'm in the middle of important business.' He resumed eating his butty.

'_It's Brice, Guv. His mates are down the Queen's Army and they're fightin' like a pack of dogs. One mentioned that girl, I think they know something.' _

'Hang on Christopher, the Lion is on his way.' Gene dropped his radio on the back seat as he drove the Quattro at it greatest speed, encouraged by the laughter of his son.

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Alex sat within the Queen's Army, watching from her booth the group of lads who were associates of Jonathan Brice. She wouldn't expect them to be friends with Brice, as the man was twice the age of most the men in the group. Maybe they were employees or work partners. She had read that Brice owned a few motor dealers around London, Manchester, Liverpool and Newcastle.

Over in the booth next to the one on her left were Chris and Shaz. Ray was across the pub, chatting up a few girls with drinks.

Alex was left on her own. She'd come by herself originally but thought it better if there were ears all over, that way they would here everything. Whilst sipping her drink, Alex glanced over the rim of the glass to see the young men now pushing each other around. The room was growing tense and everybody was feeling it. Some people even got up and left.

Things began to get serious when one dark haired man picked up a bottle and smashed it against the back of someone who had pushed him back. The whole bar erupted into a smack-down as bottles, glasses and stools were hurled at anyone in their way.

Out of the corner of her eye, Alex saw Chris pull out his radio and she assumed he was calling the Guv, but until he arrived they were on their own. She signalled the others and they all moved in, trying to break the fight up. Ray tackled two men to the ground; Chris was thrown across a table whilst Shaz cornered one and slapped them hard across the face. Alex pushed one man to the floor and pinned him down whilst ordering him not to move.

Eventually Gene burst through the door with a group of officers who joined in the fight and began handcuffing anyone who hadn't ran outside. One man made a run for the Quattro as a getaway ride, but Gene caught them and smashed their face against the wall of the pub. Within twenty minutes, whoever had been caught was cuffed and sent to the station whilst some plods travelled on foot to find anyone who had gotten out.

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'Kathy North, do you know her?'

'What business are you in with Brice?'

'When was this?'

'Just tell me your bloody name!'

CID was packed with suspects, all who had been in the pub, starting the fight. Questions and demands were shouted so loud people in the cells were beginning to complain about the noise. Every member was questioning at least two people at a time.

Gene Hunt sat in his office, examining the Army tool he'd found in his son's pocket, who was at his feet playing with a police hat. It wasn't his or Alex's; nobody had one in CID, so where did he get it? The only time Andy had been out of his sight was at the Queen's Army when he was with Chris and Ray...where they ran into Jonathan Brice.

Gene brought his legs of his desk and strode to the door, sticking his head out.

'Christopher!' The Guv bellowed, startling the young man, who was in the middle of questioning. Gene motioned for Chris to come into the office, where the man slowly entered the den of the Lion.

He strode round his desk before he picked up the knife to let Chris have a good look at it.

'Mind telling me where this came from, Skelton? Or why it was in my son's pocket?' Chris looked at the knife and Gene knew instantly that the man had never seen it before. He never doubted his team, but he wanted a full story.

'I don't know, Guv.' Chris gulped.

'Then where did Andy get it from? I doubt the lad is capable of mugging old ladies just yet.' Chris just shrugged.

'The thing is, Christopher, Andy was with you and Ray for over an hour in the boozer. So he must have picked it up there, did you take your eyes of him?' Chris began to look away and Gene knew the man had lost sight of Andy for at least over a minute. He supposed D.C. Skelton had a good reason not speaking: Bolly was fierce the last time they'd lost Andy, nobody wanted to get on the wrong side of her when her son was involved.

'Take it down to Ernie, see if he can get a trace of whose knife and who's blood.' Chris nodded and took the knife before exiting CID down to Forensics. Gene glanced at his watch before standing tall, picking up Andy in his arms and leaving his office.

'Alright gentlemen, it's beer o'clock.' The Lion spoke as he marched through CID, handing his son to Alex who held her son happily in her arms. 'Stick these tossers in the cells. See if a night will get them talking.'

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Half an hour later, CID was sitting in Luigi's, drunk out of their minds. The kind Italian smiled as they all came in and prepared a small plate of chocolate biscuits for Andy who happily took the food.

Alex and Gene sat at their normal table in the corner, having a small conversation whilst sipping their drinks. Chris was at the Jukebox, playing an oldie song, mimicking the words with a small jaunty dance with a reluctant Luigi, whilst Ray sat at the bar, trying to chat up a woman, who wasn't interested.

'You're looking good tonight, Bolly.' Gene slurred as he took another swing of his drink. Alex smiled at him and kissed him on the cheek before pouring herself another glass of wine. Just as he was about to continue, Gene's radio buzzed. The man angrily grumbled as he pulled out the device and spoke to Viv.

'What is it?!' He growled

'_Guv, the results from the blood came back. It's the girls. But Brice is missing from his cell.' _

**A/N: There you go another chapter. I hope you all enjoyed that and if you did please tell me in your reviews. I shall hope to get the next chapter up soon.**

**Until the next time,**

**Peace out Peeps xox **


	3. Chapter 3

**One day i'll go home **

**A/N: Wow I am generous, updates are coming faster than Speedy Gonzales! I've been re-watching the series and I'm halfway through series two so I thought whilst it's in my head I'll update, share the A2A fever! **

**You guys owe me big time now! Thanks to those who have reviewed on this story and I hope you will like this extra long chapter, but some of you might kill me with the end part :( It's sad, I'll tell you that. But then it gets better. Then it gets worse again. **

**Enjoy!**

One day I'll go home 

Chapter 3

_1986_

The morgue had an icy chill about it, as if the souls of the dead bodies lingered in the air, breath held back before they screamed. Ernie Mitchell, head of Forensics stood by the body, explaining the details of death again.

'Bruising to the face, but the real issue is the dent in the back of the skull,' The man explained to the two detectives, pointing out all little injuries. 'I would say a blunt object, but a rather heavy one at that.'

Gene Hunt stared at the body, his cold mask hiding the disgust of the injuries. Kathy North had been only nineteen years old, still young and full of life as her family described her. It sickened him to his core how somebody could do this in cold blood.

'What about the markings around her right wrist?' Alex asked, pointing to the black and blue marks along the edge of the ivory skin of the body. Ernie sighed as he lifted the wrist up for inspection.

'I'd say a very strong grip. Not rope or any course material, probably flesh, a hand maybe? There are similar marking around the edge of her mouth.'

'Like they were holding her back and trying to stop her calling out?' Alex suggested.

'Precisely.'

Gene pulled out a clear plastic bag containing the knife he found in Andy's pocket.

'What about this? The murder weapon?' Gene suggested.

'I'm afraid not.' Ernie sighed. 'The bash to the skull would have badly damaged her skull, but she died from blood loss. No, the knife does have her blood on the blade, but not the murder weapon.'

'Fingerprints?' Ernie wandered over to a filling cabinet and pulled out a relatively small folder, but the smell of ink was fresh as he pulled out several sheets of paper and photographs.

'Apart from young Andrew, there is only one other trace of fingerprints.'

'Jonathan Brice.' Ernie nodded at Gene's words.

'But from what I heard from Viv, he's been gone fore at least an hour. He could be at the airport by now.'

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The morning sunlight streamed through the gap of the curtains, earning grumbles from Gene who'd been sleeping peaceful until the strip of watery sunlight woke him. The man stretched out in bed, noticing the empty space where Alex slept. He ran his hand over her pillow and felt it still had traces of her body heat. Just as he turned to get up he was met by a pair of brown eyes.

'Jumpin' Jesus, kid.' Andy was inches away from Gene's face, the sudden appearance taking him by surprise. The little boy had a small smile on his face as he climbed up on the bed.

'Did your mam tell you to wake us up?' Andy smiled and nodded before tugging on the pillow under Gene's head, ordering up. The man smiled before tackling his son and throwing him over his shoulder. The small boy exploded in a fit of laughter as his dad carried him over the shoulder, down the stairs and into the kitchen where Alex was serving up breakfast. Her eyes lit up at the sight of her husband and son. Gene gave Alex a small smile, his own little grin just for her. Andy crawled out of Gene's arms and jumped into Alex's waiting arms, who responded with giving her son a tight hug before sitting him in his seat and placing some cereal in front of the boy.

The small family laughed and enjoyed their breakfast, despite them lacking the knowledge of what was to come during the day.

Within an hour the doors to CID slammed open, shocking the cores of the detectives.

'Right!' Gene Hunt bellowed. 'I want a list of everyone who was on duty in here last night and I want to know where`Brice is. Call all the plods, get them to sniff him out like a maggot in a bag of rice.' The team stood frozen for a few seconds until Gene cried: 'Mush!' Everyone scarped, doing what they had to do.'

Phones rang and rang through out the department, everyone had gathered mounds of paperwork and were forced to read every page before the Guv would let them leave. Half way through reading the roster for the previous night, Viv strolled into CID, carrying the post for the detectives.

'Package for you, Ma'am.' Viv handed Alex a thick brown envelope. Curiously she tore open the brown packaging, growing a large smile as she examined the contents. She's placed the order a few days ago and they'd finally arrived. Alex skimmed through the photographs which had been taken from the negatives in her camera. She may miss digital but the wait had been worth it. Alex shuffled though holiday pictures before she pulled out one photo of Andy in his junior police uniform and gave a small laugh at the small boy, her son. Andy was smiling up at the camera, shining bright in the kids uniform Jackie Queen had bought for him when she came down for a visit with her daughter Lilly.

'What's funny, Ma'am?' Shaz questioned as she dropped a stack of forms on Alex's desk. Alex showed her the picture and Shaz brightened and smiled at the picture of little Andy. The boy himself was by the side of Alex's desk, fast asleep in his toddler pram.

'Found anything on who was here last night, Shaz?'

'It's just the usual lot, Ma'am. Nobody who we'd believe would let someone like Brice out of his cell.' Alex sighed as she rummaged through the stack of reports on each constable on duty last night. The room was silent as they shifted through the reports, everybody wanted to sniff out the rat who'd let Brice loose.

'Ma'am?' The wavering voice of Chris called out. Alex looked up from her docents to Chris's desk, where he sat waving a small envelope addressed to CID.

'What is it Chris?' Chris rushed over and dropped the folded letter on her desk. The paper was ruffled and torn in some places, right across the page, letters had been cut out of magazine and newspapers, clearly reading:_ 'Forget where Brice has gone or you'll regret it.'_

Alex snatched up the paper and barged into Gene's office.

'There a problem, Bolls?' The man asked as he looked up from a list on names. He pulled the sheet towards him and read the letter carefully, murmuring each word to himself. 'Shit, what is Brice playing at?'

'I don't know,' Alex sat on the edge of Gene's desk, picking up the file he was reading. 'What do you think he means by_ 'Or you'll regret it?' _

They're not going to be empty threats, knowing Brice and his little friends. He could send us a dead body to bombing the whole station.' The Manc Lion stood and charged through his office door into the main room.

'Right you lot! Brice and a few of his chums who we never caught have decided to send threat letters. Chris! I want you to trace the original publication of the words in the letter. Raymondo, chase down any of Brice's friends who we missed. Shaz, take a plod and question some of the other suspects. Me and Bolly are going to Brice's place, see what we can dig up. Mush!' Everyone in CID jumped to work, making phone calls and discussing events with constables.

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'Viv could have taken care of him, we shouldn't have brought him with us.' Alex implied when they pulled in the Quattro outside the flat block where Jonathan Brice lived. Andy was fast asleep in his car-seat, but awoke the moment the car engine cut out.

'I'm not letting him out of my sight. In the pub Brice could have gotten to him, so I want at least one of our eyes on him, Bolly.' Gene stated as his wife pulled back the car seat and picked her son out of his own seat. The boy was fully awake and clung to his mother's jacket as he surveyed his surroundings. Alex smiled at Gene's words as they climbed the stairwell (Elevator out of service) towards the ninth floor, number four. The door was locked from the inside so Gene used all his force to knock the door of it's hinges.

'Brice! Show your ugly mug now!' The Manc Lion bellowed through the hall but nobody replied. They moved into the main part of the flat and saw the living room window had been left open.

'Must have jumped out onto something.' Alex claimed as she stuck her head out the window and saw a small storage unit. The fall wouldn't have killed him if he had landed on that, but it would have hurt like a bitch. Alex placed Andy down on the floor as she picked up some letters that had been delivered by the post man. They all seemed to be bills, nothing that would tell them where Brice had disappeared to.

Gene was rooting through the kitchen cupboards, seeing if Brice had hidden anything. All he found was a bottle of scotch which would be empty by the time they left. The man huffed as he slammed the last cupboard shut and moved out of the kitchen into the single bedroom. Gene placed his hand on his firearm as he heard the sound of somebody breathing behind the bed, shuffling papers. Gene pulled out the gun as he pulled the bed away, prepared to fire if they person put up a fight. The bed squeaked and cried as it was tugged away, scaring the hidden person.

Andy had been toddling around, thinking it was a game of hide and seek and had hidden down behind the bed, he just never expected his dad to tear the bed away and have his gun out. The small boy began to cry softly, startling Gene, who immediately put his gun away when the boy began to cry.

'Sorry lad.' Gene crouched down and ruffled his son's hair who slowly began to quieten down.

'What's wrong?' Alex rushed into the bedroom to see her son's tears dripping down his face. In a split second Alex rushed to the boys side and picked him up, trying to calm the boy down. 'It's ok, Sweetheart. What happened?'

'I didn't know he was down there!' Gene cried as he stayed on the floor inspecting the papers Andy had been playing with.

'This is why I said leave him at the station,' Alex huffed as she rocked the boy, soothing him.

'It's a good thing we didn't Bolly,' Gene replied as he stood tall, holding onto the bundle of papers. 'Look what the lad found.' Alex used her free hand to ruffle through the sheets. They were all stapled together, all lists of deliveries. All with drug names next to them.

'Looks like our mate Brice likes a little snifter.' Gene grinned, pocketing the papers. He man smiled at his son and ruffled the boys blonde hair.

'He is going to be one of the best D.C.I's of his time, I bet my boots on that.' Gene laughed as Alex smirked, Andy just sitting in his mothers arms, absorbing all the attention. The family's smiles broke away when they heard footsteps in the living room. Alex and Gene stood either side of the bedroom door. Alex turned Andy away when Gene pulled his gun out for a second time. They both counted to three before kicking the door open, pointing the gun at the person's face.

'Shit!' The man cried before legging it across the living rom to the door, but Gene Hunt beat him to it, catching the man by the scruff of the collar. Alex stepped out of the bedroom to see Gene tackle a man to the group, handcuffing his hands behind the back. Alex glimpsed his face and recognised him as the man who'd bottled another in the Queen's Army and had fled. Gene lifted the man upright, showing off the bust lip he'd earned trying to fight the Manc Lion off.

'Long time no see, Brian. What brings you to Brice's place? Not looking for a loot were ya?' Gene pulled out the drug orders out of his pocket and waved them in front of the man's face. 'Or did your boss forget to pick these up and he sent you round here?' Brian said nothing his eyes darting to the sheet and back to the angry face of Gene Hunt.

'Come on you tosser.' Gene grumbled as they all headed to the door. 'Hang on a sec,' Gene said, passing the cuffed man to Alex who held onto his jacket. Gene jogged into the kitchen and returned in a few moments with a full bottle of scotch in his hand.

'Brice wouldn't mind me borrowing this, would he Brian.' The man said nothing as Gene grabbed a hold of his jacket once more. 'Ok now we can go.' Alex just rolled her eyes at her husband before grinning like a cheshire cat as she followed the man, carrying their son in her arms.

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'So who is Brian Baxter?' Alex asked as they headed towards the interview room, where the man they'd caught at the flat of Jonathan Brice was waiting.

'The bloke's been charged with assault and possession before. I _knew_ he was involved with Jonathan Brice with a big shipment a few years ago, but we had no bloody evidence. It always comes down to bloody evidence in the end, don't have enough and the courts will crucify you.' Gene grumbled as he pushed the door to the interview room open.

Brian Baxter was sitting in the chair many accused had sat in before, all acting cool and confident. Brian was trying to be cool and confident, but the nervous tapping of his foot proved otherwise.

'So then, Baxter. Happy to be back?' Gene dripped his sarcastic words around the room, Brian Baxter not saying anything, only letting the police lawyer do the talking.

'What claims have you got Mr. Hunt, tat my client is involved with any drug dealings?

'The drug forms, for one. Which he came back for.' Alex said as she dropped he clear plastic bag containing the list in front of Brian.

'Anything else?' The lawyer said stiffly.

'Him just turning up at Brice's place is an interesting thing.' Gene growled as Brian simply smiled as his lawyer slowly began to get him out of the mess.

'Then you have no worthy evidence that my client here is involved in anything.' The lawyer said as he began to pack up all his documents into his shabby briefcase, but Gene hadn't listened to a word he had said.

'Where's Brice hiding Brian? We know he killed the girl, maybe you were involved or maybe you weren't, either way you know where Brice is hiding and if you don't tell me know I'm going to rip your knackers off, put them in a blender and shove them down your scrawny little throat. So start talking!' Brian stared long and hard at Gene for a few moments, before lighting up a cigarette and smiling.

'Listen, Mr. Hunt. Some friends of mine warned you of what would happen if you continued to stick your nose in our business. You may not have taken us seriously, but I think in about,' Baxter checked his watch. 'An hour's time you'll think twice before messing with us.' Brian Baxter smiled at the pair before standing up besides his lawyer and leaving the room. Alex and Gene just sat there for a few more minutes before leaving the interview room.

'Dead end with Baxter Bolly.' Gene sighed as they walked back to CID. Gene wandered into his office and opened up the bottle of scotch he'd taken from Brice's and took long hard gulps of the drink, grimacing when he pulled the bottle away from his lips. Alex ran a comforting arm over his shoulders as he slumped in his seat.

'There are still other ways. Someone in here set Brice free. I'll check the conviction files of everyone on duty last night, there must be something we missed.'

'Don't know Bolly, like I said: Brice is a sly bastard is I ever saw one. Him and his little police chum could be in bloody spain by now, getting pissed.' Gene sighed into the scotch. He offered the bottle to Alex who took a small swing of the drink before placing it down on the desk. She rubbed Gene's shoulders as the man began to think.

'What do you think the threat meant?' He asked his wife.

'I'm not sure. Brice is a nasty piece of work so we should keep our eyes open.' There was a slight knock on the door and Alex turned to see Shaz holding Andy outside the office.

'Ma'am?' Shaz poked her head though the office door, a crying Andy in her arms. 'I think he might be tired, would you like me to take him home for you? I can keep an eye on him for you?' Alex smiled before taking Andy out of Shaz's arms.

'No it's ok Shaz. I'll take him home I've got some past condition files at home I need to go through.' Shaz smiled and nodded before heading back over to her desk to finish off some paper work. Alex exited the office and headed over to her own desk where Andy's toddler pram was. She strapped the small boy in, who was still crying slightly. Gene followed his wife as she pushed the pram outside into the early evening breeze.

'I'll see you tonight.' She murmured as she kissed him before leaving. Gene gave her his small smirk which was always just for her.

'Say bye bye to you dad Andy.' Alex said, but the boy had nodded off as the pram moved out the station. Gene smiled again as he bent over and ruffled the boys hair, whispering: 'See ya later little lad.' Alex kissed her husband once more before pushing the pram down the streets. The early evening of September offered a small breeze, cold and nippy so Alex tightened the leather jacket around her body as she walked home, humming to herself. Her home was quite a few streets away from the station, but she enjoyed walking so she turned into a small narrow side street, the shops closing early on the Thursday evening. The street was deserted apart from Alex and Andy. The odd car passed by, so she didn't think twice when the white van pulled up across the street.

The driver stayed in his seat, but the passenger, as well as two men hidden in the back leapt from the van and charged across the street. Alex had less than a minute to comprehend what was happening, by that time it was too late as one man, all of them faces covered with balaclavas, smacked her across the face. Se was pushed into a brick wall before falling to the cold pavement. She heard the men speak in rushed tones. She recognised the voice of Brian Baxter. She lay there for a few moments, headache pounding and in a daze. By the time she came to, she saw the men climbing back into the van, as well as hearing the desperate cries coming from Andy as the van sped down the road, turning the corner and disappearing from sight, the distant sound of screeching tyres and cries growing smaller as they faded into the evening wind of September.

**A/N: I know, I am the worst person alive for writing that, but it builds a good plot for the story. Poor Alex :( what's Gene going to do? And will they find Andy? Please Review and I'll see when I feel like posting the next chapter. **

**Until the next time, **

**Peace out Peeps xox **


	4. Chapter 4

**One day I'll go home**

**A/N: Hello everybody! Now I know in the last chapter I was a heartless monster (Me on a good day) so I bet you all want to know what will happen to little Andy. This chapter is just going to be a small one as I continue to think up the next stage in the plot line, but the thing is I dunno what should happen: if Gene and Alex find Andy straight away or make a few months, years even pass by before they find him. Please leave me your suggestions as they'll help me out a great deal. Now on with the next chappy, let's see how Gene and Alex are coping up.**

**Enjoy!**

One day I'll go home

Chapter 4

_1986 _

Beeps and blips were faint sounding, but not reaching the ears of Alex Drake.

She sat on the hospital bed, hands tightly held together, each breath a struggle for her. She stared at the blank, badly painted wall as her thoughts drifted. She had been treated for the headache and small cut above her eye so she was allowed to leave, to go home. But she didn't want to go home. Nor did she wish to stay trapped within the bleak box walls of the hospital. She wanted to be on the streets, searching with the others but Gene had forbidden it. She'd never seen him so terrifying, nor so scared.

When she had tumbled through the doors of CID, bloodied head and a missing child, Gene had gone insane as he held her close to him, ordering his team to search all of Fenchurch, all of London, everywhere. Gene had rushed her to the hospital whilst bellowing down his radio every two minutes, hoping for news of their son's location. Every time there had been a negative reply, a little piece of their hearts had died.

The doors to the unit swung open again as Gene jogged though the ward, not caring about the glares from nurses and doctors alike as he reached his wife's bed. At the sight of Alex staring blankly at the wall, he gently clasped her hands, letting her know he was here.

'Alex?' He whispered softly. Alex whipped her head around before wrapping her arms round the Manc Lion's neck and burying her face in his shoulder. Her body wracked with silent sobs as Gene hushed her, rubbing her back and rocking slowly, being the support she needed.

'Anything?' She mumbled into his shoulder. Gene heaved a heavy breath.

'We found the van. But it's been blown to pieces. I'm sorry Bolls.' Alex pulled her head up and looked him in the eye.

'You're trying, Gene. That's all we need.' Gene nodded as he stroked her hair though his leather driving gloves.

'We'll get him back love, try and stop me. When I find those bastards I'll have their knackers in a vice, making them cry for any and every hair missing from his head.' Alex would have normally have scolded him for his violent, graphic details of punishment, but all she needed and wanted was her little boy back in her arms, not a hair missing and a big smile on his small face. Her heart lightened at the thought of his smile. She drove her hand into her jacket pocket and produced the thick brown envelope wad which had arrived earlier that morning. She pulled out the small picture of Andy in his junior police uniform, smiling bright. Gene glanced down at the picture before taking it from her hand and placing it against her chest, against her heart.

'Come on.' She said as she wiped away a stray tear and getting to her feet.

'Where do you think you're going, Lady Bolls?' Gene raised an eyebrow as he clung to her arm. 'You've got a bloody dent in your head. I'm taking you home where you'll be safe.'

'If you think I'm sitting on a sofa, all night as I wait for news of my little boy then you've got another thing coming, Hunt. I'm going with you to find him. I lost Molly so I'm not going to lose Andy as well.' Gene knew there would be no arguing with her now, they'd both get worked up and their minds would cloud up and they needed to focus. Gene grimly nodded, not liking the idea of Alex being out and about with a nasty bang to the head, but since she knew she wouldn't get back to her daughter she'd been very protective of her son. Gene followed her out of the hospital ward, heading for the Quattro with more determination then they'd ever had before.

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Andy didn't like the car, it smelled wrong. It smelt like his dad's office, cigarettes and whiskey but it wasn't his dad's office, so it was wrong. No, he was in a car, with strange people in a strange car, travelling through a strange part of London. They'd left London ten minutes ago, but he wasn't aware. All Andy knew was that this wasn't the red car of his dads which he loved so much. He could remember the strange men taking him, hurting his mum until she'd fallen to the floor. He'd cried. They'd threatened him and given him a sharp smack round the head to shut him up, which he did instantly.

His bottom lip quivered as he thought about both his mum and dad, his Uncle Ray, Uncle Chris and Auntie Shaz. He wanted to go home, he was so tired. He wanted to go home and watch the telly, sit with his mum. Play with the football his dad had given him. He wanted to kick that ball to his dad who would smile, ruffle his hair and kick it back. He wanted something nice to eat, not the stale food that had been shoved down his throat before they left the van and gotten into the different car. He wanted to listen to his bedtime story, his mum smiling as she tucked him in, he wanted his teddy bear which his dad had called Chester (Short for Manchester) as it was the same colour as the team he cheered for and encouraged Andy to cheer for.

But he knew, despite only have turned two, he knew he wasn't going home. He was stuck next to a beefy man who smelled strange. In the front he recognised the face as the man his dad had taken into the station earlier. They'd meet up with an older man with longer hair, hazel but greasy and lanky. He knew he'd seen him somewhere before but he couldn't remember. Now they were travelling past other cars, blue, green, yellow, black, grey and others. When he saw red he'd sat up hoping his mum and dad were coming, but it was the wrong car with the wrong people inside. The man next to him had grumbled and forced him to sit down again. His shoulder still felt sore from the man's hands, they were the size of plates.

Andy's eyes drooped as the heater came on. Maybe if he closed his eyes and slept, then maybe he'd wake up at home in his bed, his teddy Chester next to him, his mum smiling and playing the radio, his dad smiling, kicking a football to him. His Uncle Chris playing his music player, Uncle Ray with a story, Auntie Shaz with a piece of his favourite chocolate. Maybe, he thought as he drifted off.

Maybe.

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The van had been burnt to a cinder. There was no way Forensics would pick anything up. Alex's eyes watered as she took in the smoking heap. Just over an hour ago Andy had been forced into the back of that very same van which was now a burnt crisp.

She lowered her head to the ground and saw, imprinted in the thickly damp mud, a set of heavy booted footprints, closely followed by a pair so tiny, so minuscule next to them. She grasped Gene's hand who glanced down to the ground and saw the same footprints.

Hand in hand they followed the trail as the others looked over the van. The footsteps lead to a thick set of brambles and bushes, which lay next to a clipped fence. On the other side was a main road, cars whizzing past on their everyday business. Alex and Gene held each other's hands as they watched the cars go last in silence.

They would find Andy. They didn't know how long it would take but they knew, they just knew that one day the boy would be back in their arms, their little lad.

**A/N: There you go a little taster of what's going on. As I said before, please leave me your suggestions in Reviews as they make me happy. I'll do all I can to get writing soon but exams are coming, DUN DUN DUN! Anyway, I'll do my best. **

**Until the next time,**

**Peace out Peeps. **


	5. Chapter 5

**One day I'll go home**

**A/N: Hi guys! Thanks to everyone who reviewed with their suggestions, they've all helped me out a great deal in deciding on what shall happen to little Andy. I do hope you are all enjoying this story and if you have any other suggestions just give me a shout. I'll keep this short so we can see how the Ashes to Ashes crew are doing. **

**Enjoy!**

One day I'll go home

Chapter 5

_1994_

_'In recent months with the continuos rise of burglaries and drug use in the area, the Metropolitan Police have not yet released a statement on the current situation on what shall be done to lower these crime rates. This gives the public a reason to truly fear letting their children out of their sight.' _Patricia Scott smiled smugly as she criticised the police in front of the British nation, live on BBC 1 news. Alex Drake was barely listening to the woman patronise them as she continued to fill in numerous forms on the said burglaries and the large quantities of drugs being found on teenagers and other young people in the local area. Alex eventually threw her pen down in distain as she heard the woman on the telly call the Police force '_Lazy and unresponsive'. _It was true they had yet to release a statement, but due to the lack of progress the Superintendent had ordered them, in the loudest tone possible, to find immediate results to put the public at ease and to close the motor mouth on Patricia Scott.

And people had thought Caroline Price had been bad; she was nothing compared to Patricia Scott.

The whole of CID was just loitering about, bored eyes barley focused on the screen nor the paperwork they were all supposed to catch up on. Alex cast her eyes over the office to where the Manc Lion had his den. She smiled as she watched her husband, the man of her life, lazily flick through a file whilst grimacing at the burning sensation from the glass of amber liquid he held in his spare hand. She pushed aside her paperwork before leaving her desk and strolling towards the office door. Without knocking she entered and closed the door behind her. Gene glanced up and gave her his small smirk, which by anyone else would be considered a small twitch of the lips, but Alex knew him well enough to know it was his own personal smile for her.

'Ya alright Bolls?' She nodded as she perched herself on the edge of the desk, smiling at the nickname he constantly labelled her with. He passed her a glass of whiskey which she willingly took and drained in two gulps. Alex's eyes flickered over to the small TV which Gene kept in his office and saw to her distain that it was the same programme.

'She's a right uptight Bitch, she is.' Gene grumbled as he saw the flicker of annoyance in Alex's eyes when she listened to Patricia Scott babble on.

'She likes to make her opinions of us clear on how she hates us.' Alex muttered, not taking part in the language her husband used to describe the middle-aged woman.

'She's a solicitor Bolls. They all hate us right now.' Their eyes focused back on the screen as Patricia Scott brought up another thing to criticise them about: Missing people. Gene saw Alex tense up and become immensely fascinated with the chip in his desk. Gene felt his own stomach twist and churn as Scott gabbled on how the police did not a proper and legal investigation. It was well known that Patricia Scott had lost a child, a missing child, just like them. Only she liked the world to know about it at every chance she got. Unfortunately for Gene and Alex, everybody _already_ knew that they were the parents of a missing child. People in the street gave them sympathetic looks as they walked by. More than once Gene had wanted so badly to deck one person who came right up to him and said he was sorry. It had happened just a few months after the accident, but everyone had tread carefully around them like their child was _dead_.

But he wasn't.

They knew he wasn't. Brice had made it clear on more than one count he was still alive.

_'The Metropolitan Police is currently inactive on the search for people missing. Daily more than fifty people alone are reported missing in the southern area of London within the space of two days,' _

_'_Turn it off Bolls.' Gene sighed as he saw her eyes become slightly hazy. Alex leaned over from the desk and turned the dial which immediately shot the screen into pure darkness, their reflections wavered and curved on the now dark screen. They sat in silence, Gene slowly sipping on the remains of his drink. Alex glanced up briefly into the main office. Some workers had been watching, but immediately turned their heads down and shuffled mindless papers. They had watched the same programmes them and had been looking if there was any reaction. Over the years Alex had finally mastered to stop tears from crashing down her face like Niagara falls, but each time something poked her mind into her child's direction her heart felt as if someone had scrunched it up like a piece of scrap paper.

'She's right though.' Alex whispered as the older woman's words floated round her mind like the autumn leaves on the pond in the park. Gene heaved a heavy sigh as he drained the rest of his drink, not paying attention to what Alex had said. He didn't want it dragged up.

'We could do a lot more. Interviews, local police patrols, there are many other things we could do.' She began ticking them off on her fingers as she counted. Gene slammed the file shut and threw it on his desk.

'Give it a rest Bolly. We don't talk about it unless there's something _to_ talk about.' Alex's eyes hardened as Gene refused to look at her, instead pouring himself another drink.

'There is always something to talk about Gene.' The man sighed as if he never heard her, tapping the end of his pen on his desk. Gene never talked about him anymore. After the second year had passed, the Super had come down on them like a tone of bricks, telling them on how they were wasting police time. Gene and Alex never stopped doing all they could but eventually they were forced to push the case aside, no matter how many times Alex nearly fell to her knees. Ever since then the only time the case was cropped up was when Brice had contacted them. They assumed he was somewhere abroad, as they could not trace the call to an exact location.

He had called to remind them that he was in control; if he wanted something from the they would have to comply. They knew what he would do if they didn't.

So far Brice had asked for nothing, which they believed was worse then him asking for things such as guns or immunity. The man left them in constant suspense of when he might contact them again. But he hadn't. The last call had been three years earlier. The man had been bragging.

_'Just letting you know how he's getting on.' _Gene had been so infuriated that he had positively screamed down the phone at Brice. The man had only sniggered and commented on how their son was a '_Chip off the old block._' How he looked just like Gene and that made him extremely unpopular with some of Brice's friends who had done time. As soon as the call had ended, both Alex, Gene and the rest of CID had gone though the records of every known associates of Jonathan Brice who had been imprisoned at one time or another. They had interviewed every single one of them.

None of them had said a word.

Ever since then Alex had been on edge whenever there was a phone call, especially these days. She always twisted her hands in anxiety as soon as the phone was picked up, only for them to go limp when she found out her hope was in vain.

'Alex?' Ale was snapped back from her daze as soon as Gene had uttered her name. She looked up into the azure eyes of Gene Hunt, who was giving her his usual curious look as if he were analysing her. 'Forget it, Alex. There's nothing we can do. Brice won't call until he's bored, you know he calls to get a kick out of it. The bastard's screwed up big time in that shit sized brain of his,' Alex sighed and left the office, slamming the door as she strode through CID. She pushed open the doors and turned left as se marched down the corridor. She reached the reception and walked over to Viv who was talking to a young teenage girl.

'Keys, Viv.' The man unhooked the keys for the evidence room as Alex signed her name on roster.

'Ma'am,' Viv said as he handed her the faded key. 'This young girl says she needs to speak with you.'

'Not now Viv.' Alex sighed as she marched back up the corridor to the evidence room. Viv tried to call her back but Alex just unlocked the door then slamming it behind her, as that was enough to say. When the door was closed she took a moment to compose herself. Taking deep breaths, she stumbled towards the far filing cabinet. Her legs were like jelly. She reached the faded tower of metal, running her hands over the scratched and dented surface. The cabinet was marked with the age of seven years, which was a whole lifetime in Alex's eyes. She pulled out the key she always kept in her pocket and inserted it into the lock, turning and then pulling the sliding draws open, used to the scraping sound and the way it snagged in it's age.

In every filling cabinet in Fenchurch East police station held multiple records, from shoplifting to murder in every draw. But in the top draw of this particular filing cabinet only held one thing, records of one person, from birth to kidnapping. Alex pulled out the packed box and sat down at small chair, the foam was escaping but this chair was a solitude for Alex when ever she re-read the files as it was there to stop her falling to the ground in anguish. She pulled out the poster which lay on top, dog-eared and faded with age, the bold red title saying _MISSING_ was crinkled and dull. But the picture was the same. The same smiling face of a young boy, no more than a year old in a children's police uniform. His smile true and bright as he smiled at the camera from his place in his dad's arms. Gene couldn't be seen in the picture, only his arms, but Alex remembered every detail on that day, the pure happiness was imprinted in her mind forever. She and Gene had been the happiest couple on earth that day, an ordinary day but a special day. She sighed as she buried the poster amongst the throngs of paper as she brought up conviction records on all of Jonathan Brice's friends, family, associates and co-workers. Alex grumbled as she dropped a thick wad of paper as she was shuffling her way through the papers. A heavy clunk invaded her ears as a small black tape fell to the ground.

Alex frantically dropped to the floor to retrieve the tape to see if it was undamaged. She sighed a sign of relief as she saw it was undamaged. Her eyes darted to the Television set in the corner of the room and in instinct she rose up, tape in hand, and walked to the set, placing the cassette in the video player. It was old, very old, at least two years old, but it had come to them only months before. Alex and Gene both knew the tape back to front, they could see what they needed to see and it pained them every time. Alex pressed play as soon as the tape clicked, signalling it's starting point. Alex sat crossed legged on the floor in front of the set as the tape started, the blinking white numbers in the bottom of the screen read the date: _March 12th 1992, 11:06 AM. _

_'He would have been seven, eight in six months. My baby.' _Alex though dismally to herself as the tape began showing the security footage of a shopping centre in Newcastle. It had been a miracle that they had been spotted. By Jackie Queen no less. Shopping with her own daughter Lilly on a day trip. Jackie had actually bumped into Brian Baxter, who was roaming the store with three other boys who had been caught pick-pocketing. Andy had been amongst them. Seven years old and being taught to be a criminal.

_'What was going though your head?'_ Alex though the same questions over and over in her mind like a dice as she watched the group of lads slowly come together, Andy not there yet. _'Were you scared? Or were you used to it? Are you scared right now?'_

Her heart within her chest felt as if it were going to burst out of her ribcage as a small figure appeared at the top corner of the screen, accompanied by Brian Baxter, and making their way over to the group of assembled lads. Alex spotted Jackie walk past, Lilly holding her hand. Jackie walks straight into Baxter, who then curses at Jackie, as the woman had said. The small boy's arm was firmly held by Baxter as he dragged Andy away. Alex saw the screen-Jackie turn and call out as the look of Gene Hunt and Alex Drake appear on the small boy's face. Baxter gripped the boy tightly round the middle, hauls him over his sholder and runs, the group of boys behind him. Alex paused the screen at the same moment, the right moment.

There, on the screen, was the blurry, grainy image of the face of her son, her little boy. It was a long distance shot, and only by chance the boy had looked up to the camera, revealing his face to the video. The screen suddenly became invisible as her eyes welled up with tears, obscuring her vision. She placed a hand to the screen as she sunk to her knees in despair and pain.

She just wanted him back.

After seven years, it never became any easier.

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Alex finally had managed to rid her face of most evidence of tears as she left the evidence room. She strides over to the front desk to hand the key back over to Viv who hung it in the special key box. Alex leaned against the desk, breathing heavily as she tried to push the still fresh pain down to where it wouldn't plague her mind.

'Everything alright, Ma'am?' Viv asked in concern. Alex nodded as she pushed her curls back so some wind would grace her hot face.

'Ma'am?' Alex turned back to where Viv was, his arm around the shoulders of a young teenage girl with long dirty blonde hair. She was probably about sixteen. Alex recognised her as the girl who Viv had tried to tell her about before. 'Ma'am this is Faith Tomlinson. She says she needs to speak to you and only you.' Alex groaned and rubbed her head.

'I can't deal with anything right now Viv, I'm sorry. Maybe tomorrow?' Alex gently smiled at the girl before turning on her heel and heading down the corridor. The girl, Faith, broke away from Viv's arm and called out to her.

'I know him! Your son, Andy! I know him and I know where he is!' Alex stopped mid-step. Her breath hitched inside her as if there wasn't enough oxygen to go around. She spun on her heel and turned to face the girl. She had a look of genuine fear in her eyes and was shaking, but Alex could also see that she was telling the truth.

**A/N: Oh dear, what's ring on there? I'm totally evil for leaving it on a cliffhanger, but I couldn't resist. I sure do hope you all enjoyed that chapter. Please take a moment to Review and check out my other stories. I dunno when I'll update again, but I hope that was enough to satisfy your hungry minds. For now. **

**Until the next time,**

**Peace out Peeps xox **


	6. Chapter 6

**One day I'll go home**

**A/N: Heya guys, here we go, drum roll please...CHAPTER 6! I couldn't wait to update this; it wouldn't stop forming in my head! So, in the last one somebody told Alex they knew Andy. What will happen? Will they find him? Or will something terrible happen? Read on to find out!**

**Enjoy!**

One day I'll go home

Chapter 6

_1994_

The small, enclosed space was maximised with the stench of stale sweat and tobacco; the heat was terrible and the hazy smoke drifting from the lit up joint was doing very little to help focus their minds. Two boys were piled into the corner, dominated by the presence by older boys and some fully grown men, smelling the worst part of the stench. As the journey inside the transit continued, the sky was beginning to darken through the tinted glass. The engine hummed as they turned and drove along less crowded streets. Their legs had fallen asleep a long time ago, about twenty minutes of leaving the busy streets of Liverpool, where they had camped out for the last two weeks.

Never stay in one place too long; that was the golden rule.

The gentle tune of the engine cut out as they finally reached their location after several hours of travelling in such a small confined space. The oldest boy turned to his right to look at his friend who was securing a thick woollen winter cap down onto his head to block any recognition of his face. They all had to do the same; there was no telling who would spot them. The boy himself pulled on a hat similar to his friends black hat, but his was a faded navy colour. The two boys glanced at each other as everyone else in the transit pulled out shotguns from beneath their seats and checked the loads. The boy's friend's eyes were dull with recognition as he watched the men practise what he had seen his entire life.

He himself had been with this bad crowd for a while now, too long for his taste anyhow. He didn't enjoy it, he despised every second he was forced to participate in these illegal activities. His friend however had been raised in this world, but he hadn't let the rot spread to his mind, that was why they were friends.

The two boys gave each other another quick glance before the men placed shotguns in their unsteady hands. They both took deep breaths to calm their nerves before they were roughly shoved out of the van by the scruff of their shirts and into the cold night's air, which was a blessing upon their hot faces.

The guns were steadily shaken as their hands trembled, as with the rest of the crowd, the two boys were pushed up the stone steps to do the bidding of a man they both greatly feared to the pits of their stomachs.

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_One hour previously..._

'...Quiet lad, barely speaks to people he don't like. But he's bright enough, knows how to laugh when given the chance.' Faith had talked to Alex about Andy for the last five minutes. As soon as Faith had called out, claiming to know Andy, she'd pushed the girl into the interview room in the space of seconds. She hadn't even had the chance to go find Gene, but thankfully Viv had said he would. At that exact moment, the door to the interview room burst open and Gene Hunt strode into the small dark room, his Manc Lion stance adopted.

'Alex? What the bloody 'ell's goin' on? Skip just came lookin' for me, talking 'bout some kid knowing...' Gene's voice trailed off before he mentioned his son's name, not wanting the complete package of pain to wash over him. He took in the sight of the young girl sitting opposite Alex. Probably no more than sixteen, seventeen maybe. Dressed in a white tank top featuring a boy band whilst sporting a pair of denim trousers.

'Gene.' Alex stood up and rushed to his side, grasping his hand and pulling him over to the table, forcing him to sit down. 'This is Faith. She knows, Gene, she knows Andy.' Gene looked into Alex's eyes and saw the hope rising into those hazel-green eyes of hers. He turned to the girl, Faith, and pointed a menacing finger at the girl.

'If your lyin' to us, you'll regret it.' He growled. He hoped within the depths of his heart that the girl really did know something: where his son was, how he was, if he was safe, alive. He couldn't bare it if it was a long cold trail, he couldn't bare to see the hope die from his Bolly's eyes all over again. Faith leaned over the table so her head was closer to theirs, as if she didn't someone to over hear her in the empty room apart from them three.

'He looks like you, Mr. Hunt. And I swear, I'm not making this up.' Faith spoke so quietly that if Gene and Alex hadn't seen her lips move they would have thought they'd imagined the sound. 'I...sort of work for Brian Baxter.'

'You work for Baxter?' Alex questioned, adopting her professional stance as if she was questioning a normal average suspect, not someone with information more precious than gold to them. Faith took a deep breath, leaning back in her chair as she pulled out a packet of cigarettes and lighting up the tobacco. Gene studied the young girls face as she took a puff and releasing a billow of smoke into the air. The girls face was distort, pained as if mentioning the thing she did was the worst thing to mention. That's when Gene figured it out.

'Your Baxter's personal Prossie?' Alex turned her head to Gene, an outraged look on her face as he dared accuse anyone of a job such as that. Faith said nothing, leaning back in her chair, her face blank as she drew long on the cigarette.

'It's not a job I'm proud of,' The girl whispered as she stumped out the remains. 'But it pays well enough, especially when he makes a few deals. As soon as I have enough I'm buggering off from that bastard, get my own place and get a decent job.' Faith wiped her eyes as she leaned in close once more. 'Me and Andy used to talk about it a lot when he was smaller, how I'd get enough cash and we'd run away, I could take up fashion or something, whilst he went to school, became a normal kid.' At memory of the days of a little lad asking to relieve the idea, the dream again to bring a smile on his face, Faith smiled, but it vanished as she remembered the last time she saw Andy, the cold dead look in his eyes. Something a nine year old should not have to have in their eyes.

'Was Andy... ?' Alex swallowed as she tried to speak. 'Did Brice ever hurt him?'

'Only a few times from what I saw, but I don't know what he went through other days when Brice took him away.' Gene gripped Alex's hand in his own as he pictured himself when he was his son's age, battered and bruised from his father's beating, but imagining the boy with brown-green eyes, being beaten by Jonathan Brice.

'Brice took 'im away?' Gene questioned, wanting to know everything there was to know.

'Days and weeks at a time. Brice kept him with him a lot when he was younger, but after a thing up in Newcastle, Brice buggered off abroad and Andy was shoved with Baxter most days, some of Brice's other mates would take him away for a job.' Faith lit up another cigarette as she re-lived the days that were not so long ago. 'Apparently they wanted him in deep crime stuff, just to piss you lot off so I hear.'

'Faith, can you just tell us where he is now?' Alex spoke the question which had plagued her for the last ten minutes. Faith took a long drag on her second before whispering in a low voice.

'A few months back, Baxter was getting agitated. Apparently Brice wants him to pull of this blag down here in London. Andy had been up in north, but last night, Baxter called up his mate, Oliver Louis, who's been getting Andy to carry drugs round Liverpool. Baxter wants him in on this blag, apparently Brice wants it to be filmed and when they're far off from here then Baxter is to send it to you, taunting and takin' the piss.'

'Listen Love, later on you can give us all the bloody names you know in that 'ead of yours, but right now I just wanna know where me son is.'

'This blags supposed to take place in this royal bank place, Morton and something's?' Gene nodded, knowing which bank the girls spoke about. 'Andy set off early this morning. He's supposed to go in there with a few others, guns blazin' and to take some cash from the vault and run for it, down two streets to where there's a two different vans waiting to take them down to Plymouth.' Faith looked at her watch. 'He'll be in London in a few minutes, the blags gonna happen in one hour. You'd better hurry Mr. Hunt. Brice is sick in the head. I don't know how longs it's going to be before he gets bored of havin' Andy around.'

Gene and Alex ran from the room and straight back into CID to tell everyone the plan which was still being processed inside their heads. They didn't care that they were rushing into things, all they cared about was that they could just have their son back with them by beer o'clock.

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The normally quite posh streets of uptown London were suddenly ablaze with the roaring engine of the Quattro, the scarlet car defiantly breaking many speed limits as it made its way down the empty streets. The car braked and skidded round one of the last few corners as the Quattro got closer and closer to Morton and Devonshire's bank. The place was a highlight for the rich knobs that lived around these parts. The place was rumoured to be minted, but stacked with armed officers round the clock.

Luckily Alex had called ahead to inform the bank of the raid which was to take place within the next twenty minutes. Her heart was beginning to beat faster and faster as they approached the chosen bank, and not from the deadly driving of her husband.

As they rounded the last corner, the Quattro came to a steady halt, patiently waiting, obscured from view by a small pile of road works signs. Uniform were seated within cars just round the corner, and were to intervene when Gene radioed them. They waited within the car in silence. Even Ray and Chris who were seated in the back were silent. They had wanted to find their shared Godson just as much as the boy's parents and now where edgy with the prospects of the boy returning. Seven, nearly eight years late.

A sharp intake of breath could be heard audibly by Alex as a white Transit van slowly made its way up the street, not exactly looking threatening as it pulled up at the base of the stone steps which lead up to the bank. The van remained still for a few seconds, until within the space of a micro-second, the back doors were flung open and a group of young lads burst out like sparks from fireworks. They couldn't have been any older than Faith; the oldest men had to be in their forties. Alex's eyes scanned the small cluster of boys armed with shot guns, searching for a smaller boy.

'B team, move it!' Gene yelled into his radio before leaping out of the car, Ray and Chris right behind him. Alex got out as fast she could as well, firearm in hand. The group of four slowly moved amongst the cars until they were behind and to the left of the group of lads, watching as the now empty van drove away. Alex made mental note of the registration number.

The B team had moved in and now were peaking over the top of the stone stairs and working their way round to the right. As the crowd of boys began to move, Gene caught sight of two smaller boys, excluded from the group, being held by their shirts in front of the oldest men. Both decked out in winter hats, one black and the other navy.

'Oi!' He called out, hoping his voice hadn't wavered from possible sights of his son. 'You're surrounded by armed bastards!' At the sound of D.C.I Hunt's voice, the men turned and began to shoot. Gene ducked down as the range of fire continued. AT the right moment, the Manc Lion, followed by Ray, Chris and Alex made their way around the car, and began to shoot back at the same time as uniform and the B team.

'Shit!' Chris cried out as a bullet smashed into the pavement inches from where his foot was. The heavy rain of fire continued for another twenty minutes, as the A team and the B team did their best to fire back. In reality they were in the better position as there were more of them and they all surrounded and isolated the group, but they were reluctant to move in until a few had gone down as the group of lads rained out heavy fire of bullets non-stop. At the right given chance, Gene twisted his body around the car and shot at one of the blaggers, hitting him in the shoulder, causing him to fall to the ground. The man had been what seemed the leader, and at the sight of him falling the lads had faltered for a moment, which was enough time for the A team and the B team to move in closer, guns poised.

'Drop 'em scumbags!' Gene bellowed, his face twisted with rage. The two teams plus uniform closed in and the rest of the lads knew they were drastically outnumbered. The boys began to put their guns down, but at the given chance a few tried to make a run for it. One lad charged forward hoping to push past Ray, but he never made it as Ray pulled out his right hook and knocked the lad to the ground. The crowd of police officers cheered at Ray. Alex made her way towards the crowd and stood next to Gene, her eyes staring at what his eyes were: The two boys who were stood in the circle, heads down. Which one was Andy?

'Bolly,' Gene's head turned to Alex, which was a big mistake, as when they saw the man was distracted for a split second, the group of teenage boys rampaged forwards, knocking them to the floor. Everyone went into frenzy. There was no time to collect their guns off the ground as all the boys sprinted as fast as they possibly could. Gene looked up from the ground and saw the two boys stick together and run off down the road. He momentarily shook himself before picking his body off the ground and charging after the boys as fast as he could, hoping uniform could round up the others. Alex never even got the chance to see which way her husband ran as she swung a punch at one lad who tried to tackle her, who was now clutching his jaw on the pavement.

Gene had never run so fast in so long as he followed the two boys along a back street, throwing hung up washing out of the way as the boys ran. The bottom of the backstreet was fenced off, but given the chance the boys could climb and jump over. Gene had only a second to decide what to do. He stopped in his track and pulled his gun back out.

'Stop right there lads.' He wasn't going to shoot them, just scare them enough to make them stop. The two boys turned, faces hidden from view by their thick winter hats. They stared at the firearm and the fence, wondering whether to risk it or not. The boy in the navy hat was frozen, but his friend in the black hat had different ideas. The boy made a run for the fence, charging as fast as he could, hoping to scale and jump.

Gene hadn't aimed for his arm, just the fence to shake the boy off, but the lad had moved at the wrong time and screamed out as he fell to the ground, clutching his right arm as blood poured out. Gene stood there, frozen in absolute fear as the boy cried out in pain, his friend in the navy hat rushing to his side. Gene couldn't move.

'Get off!' The injured boy called to his friend who tried to help. 'I ain't no fairy!' Gene regained his composure and steadily made his way over. The boy in the navy cap, kneeling next to his injured friend looked up with terror in his eyes.

'Run! Andrew! Just leg it!' The injured boy cried to his friend. Gene was frozen again, staring at the boy in the navy cap who stood tall, looking between Gene, his bleeding friend and the fence.

'Move it you idiot!' The hurt boy cried again as Gene strode forward as fast as he could, his face a mask of shock and wonder. But the boy in the navy cap looked back down at his injured friend before deciding to run for the fence and clambering onto a dustbin before jumping over and running away (having knocked the dustbin over in the process as well) from the scene as fast as he could. As soon as Gene picked up the bin to climb over the fence after the boy, he saw to his hearts fears that the boy in the navy cap had ran down the main street and now was devoured by the large crowds of people.

Gene Hunt was left standing on the opposite side of the fence, away from his son with a boy who had a bullet in his arm, crying out.

**A/N: DUN DUN DUN! You probably all hate me for doing that, but don't worry, I know what I'm doing. Trust the Gene Genie. Hope you all liked it and if you did please tell me about it in your reviews :) **

**Until the next time, **

**Peace out Peeps xox **


	7. Chapter 7

**One day I'll go home **

**A/N: Is it a bird? Is it a plane? Is it Santa? No, it's an update! Hope you guys are doing good, cause here's the latest instalment of **_**'One day I'll go home'**_**. It may seem simple now, but trust me there is one hell of a twist coming, something you will not see coming. I hope you all liked that last chapter, bet you didn't see that coming either. So let's see how our fav characters are doing. Thanks to all of those who have reviewed on this story, they mean a lot to me. **

**Enjoy!**

One day I'll go home 

Chapter 7

_1994_

'Male. Between the age of seven to eleven. Gunshot wound to the lower right arm, sever blood loss.' The boy was sped down the hygienic white corridor, doctors and nurses gathered around the moving gurney as they tried to stem the flowing blood, which had left tiny scarlet specks against the artificial clean ground: an eye sore. Alex watched until the boy was out of sight as he was sent straight to surgery to remove the bullet. In the back of her mind she could hear the gunshot that killed her, the greasy fouled face of Arthur Layton holding the smoking gun. Alex gave off a small shudder as she re-called the sickening sound of the gun, but pushed it to the back of her mind as she spun on her heel within the hospital waiting room. There was no point on dwelling on it at the moment.

Gene was sitting with his face hidden in his hands, as if he could block out the entire world. Alex strode over the polished floor and sat down next to him.

'It wasn't your fault, Gene.' Gene grumbled into his hands before standing up and leaving Alex as he made his way over to the coffee machine.

'I shot the lad Bolly. Bullets stuck in 'is bloody arm cause of me and my lousy aim.' Gene grumbled as he sipped the coffee and grimacing at the cheap taste.

'You weren't deliberately aiming for his arm. It was just unlucky.'

'Yeah, but what 'bout Andy? I let 'im get away. I was just standin' there like a bloody useless lump and let our lad get away. Unlucky again.' Alex walked over and placed a comforting arm on his.

'You were in shock, so it's not your fault. I've got Ray and Chris searching the whole of London for him. Bammo and Terry are searching for the van they were dropped off in.'

'What 'bout the ones they were to get in to later on?'

'Gone. Nobody saw them there, so a cold trail on that one.' Gene huffed again before taking another sip of the grim tasting coffee; it tasted just how he felt on the inside.

'When I get my bloody hands on that smug bastard Brice he's not going to be forgetting what he's done any ruddy time soon.' Alex gave a small nod as she too thought of the punch she was aching to give Brice herself. Gene dumped the rest of the terrible coffee before sitting back down in the faded threadbare chair, Alex leaning on his shoulder inside the waiting room.

'If that lad is still livin' I'm gonna question the livin' daylights out of 'im. He knows Andy and I want to know where he would have gone to.' Gene murmured from behind a yawn.

'Let's hope we're due some good luck.' Alex whispered herself as she slowly drifted away from the clinical nineties hospital room as the land of dreams claimed them both.

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'D.C.I Hunt?' The sudden ringing voice in his ears had Gene up in an instant, gun out and pointed at the terrified doctor. Gene realised his mistake with a sheepish look on his face.

'Sorry doc.' The Manc Lion grumbled as he tucked his gun back within his gun belt. The doctor regained his composure, but was a little unsteady on his feet afterwards.

'The boy you brought in, sir he's-'

'Christ, he ain't dead is he?' Gene panicked as the sudden charge of manslaughter hung in the air, and the pressing guilt of a young boy's blood on his hands.

'No! No, he survived. The bullet didn't do too much dangerous damage, just a very deep flesh wound. No broken bones thankfully. It could have been fatal if infection had caught on or server blood loss, but he stabilised and is out of surgery. He was very lucky.' Gene let lose a sigh of deep relief as the doctor explained.

'He's been out for a few hours now, sir, fast asleep. But he's awake now. But there seems to be one small problem.' Gene gritted his teeth in frustration.

There would always be a catch, wouldn't there.

'The boy seems to be in a complex state of mind, not allowing any physical contact-'

'Speak bloody English Doc!'

'The boy is scared witless of everyone around him, I believe an abusive family home maybe? He would need mental sessions to recover so I am afraid I cannot allow you to question him-' the man didn't finish his sentence as Gene pushed past and jogged down the corridor. That boy was the only person who would know where Andy was, so he wasn't giving up. He strode up to the receptionist of the children's ward and flashed his warrant card, to which the nurse pointed out the correct door. Gene strode down the corridor, ignoring the bright childish paintings on the walls and not wanting to look down at the small children who wandered the lonesome corridor.

He hadn't stepped a foot in here since his Andy had gained a bad bout of flu when he was twenty months old. The boy had to stay overnight, but Gene had stayed with the lad, cracking jokes and had gotten a television into the room so he could watch the Man City match with the boy and the rest of CID who turned up, wanting to see the boy. (Nothing to do with the broken television set back in the office) Gene chuckled to himself as he remembered Chris passing out from the sight of the needle the nurse had given Andy for the flu. The boy hadn't even cried, but Chris had bloody fainted.

Gene stopped, dead in his tracks outside the ward. He peered round the frame to see four beds, only two occupied. One with a girl and her family, the girl's leg broken, the other with a thin boy, who looked like he'd grown too much in a short space of time, with a mane of tangled dirty hair. The family were looking at him as if he should be put outside as he wandered of his bed, arm in a sling and bandage, and began looking through the cupboards and bedside cabinets with a thicket of curiosity in his eyes, but trying hard not to let it show as he inspected the things he pulled out.

'Mr. Hunt!' Gene sighed as the doctor caught up to him, panting slightly. 'I am afraid I cannot allow you to speak with the boy! Any attempt to question him could just terrify him and cause an emotional block; I can only allow a trained psychologist to speak-'

'Listen here, Dr Freakin' Frankenstein.' Gene grumbled from the back of his throat. 'That boy is part of drug group who I've wanted to nail for a long time now, plus he's the only person who knows where my bloody son is!' The doctor looked ruffled from the personal information, but switched his face into a calm facade.

'I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Hunt. But it's the rules. A law enforcer such as you would understand, I presume?'

Gene's face was a mixed contrast of disagreement, pain and anger as he muttered about 'needing a fag' before leaving the children's ward and out a side door to a small courtyard which held a small slide and swing set. The Manc Lion lit up the cigarette and took a long; much needed drag before releasing a billow of smoke into the early morning sky which was like a watercolour painting, mixtures of hazy yellow sunlight and watery pale blue sky. He rested his head back on the red brick wall, the sharp turns poking into the back of his skull, but he didn't care.

'Gene?' He opened his eyes a crack to see the figure of Alex leaning against the door, hair re-curled and a fresh shirt on underneath her leather jacket.

'Where'd you wander to Bolls?' He attempted a small smirk but his face wouldn't allow it.

'I went back to the station, you were dead to the world and I couldn't shift you so I went back on my own.'

'What you find out then?'

'They found the van: it had three of the other boys.' Gene's face perked up. 'They're in the cells.' Alex held out her hand and lead Gene indoors.

'We can't leave yet Bolly. That lad is just sittin' in 'is hospital bed and that freakin' doctor won't let us anywhere near 'im.' Alex gave Gene a small smirk as she held back a few giggles.

'What's so bleedin' funny?'

'They won't let _you_ near him.'

'No, they won't let _us_ near him.'

'No Gene, just you. Are you forgetting that I am trained in psychology?'

'Personally your psycho-bollocks does nothing to really impress me Lady Bolls.'

Alex just smiled again as he still didn't grasp it.

'Gene, you head back to the station, the doctor will allow me to go in there, just not you.' Alex gave in and told him as he was not catching on. The realisation dawned on Gene and he gave Alex a small smile before pulling her close to him.

'Yer bloody fantastic, woman.' He murmured as his lips gently pressed against hers. They stood in bliss for a few minutes, oblivious to the world around them as they focused on each other. Eventually when they split apart, Alex gave Gene a small smile before one last kiss and telling him to go.

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The heels of Alex's shoes clacked against the cold plastic floor as she made her way down the children's ward. The doctor (Dr. Jacobs) had given permission, if reluctantly, to talk to the boy. They didn't even know his name, Alex thought as she turned into the hospital room. The girl with the broken leg had left, so the boy was the only one in the room, sitting up in bed, one arm in a sling whilst the other poked and prodded a toy Rubix cube a nurse must have given him.

At the sound of her footsteps, the boy's head whipped around to give her a cold look that made a small shiver to run down her spine. The eyes were cold and hopeless, which didn't suit someone so young. She smiled however and made her way over to the bed. The boy fidgeted and looked down but didn't say a word as Alex pulled up a chair and sat down besides his bed.

'Hello.' She said brightly. The boy said nothing.

'My name's Alex.' He still said nothing, but continued to twist the toy cube, now with slightly more anger.

'What's your name?' He said nothing, but threw the toy across the room with his one good arm. Alex saw she would get nothing from him unless they connected, so she crossed the room and picked the toy up and brought it back over. She sat back down and placed it back in his hand.

'There are seven steps to solving it, you know?' She twisted the cube until there was one single blue square up in the top corner.

'Try and get another one next to it.' The boy sighed as he twisted the cube in random places, forcing one blue square to travel across the 3D shape. Eventually the square found its twin and settled next to it. A small flicker of a smile crossed the boys face as another blue cube slotted in, making three.

The boy stretched out his hand, offering Alex a go who smiled and twisted the toy, more frustration as she aimlessly tried to work the puzzle. She couldn't work it out and ended up losing concentration and threw the toy down in a huff.

'I never did like those things.' She muttered to herself, but looked up to the sound of faint sniggering. The boy had covered his mouth with his free hand and was silently laughing at her predicament. Alex smiled at him and picked the cube up again, starting it again and taking it in turns.

Eventually they got a whole side of blue squares complete and Alex could swear that the boy was beaming inside. By that time it was lunch time and a nurse came in with a children's menu and asked him to select something of his choice. The boy held the laminated plastic sheet in his hands as he studied the sheet, his eyes screwed up in concentration.

Alex wondered if he could even read as he seemed more fixated with the small images of the meals instead of the actual words. In the end he pointed out the small picture of a pie and the nurse asked him if he would like either brown or red sauce with the pie and chips. The boys face lit up with the many choices of food and asked for both with a flicker of hope in his eyes. The nurse raised her eyebrows but didn't say anything.

The meal came on a trolley within ten minutes, and as soon as the meal was set in front of him the boy used his one good arm to scoop up the food, his knife and fork left untouched. Alex watched keenly as the boy ate with ravenous hunger, as if he hadn't eaten for days, weeks even. Alex made mental note of the boys figure and saw he was too thin for a boy of his age, and she remembered the doctor mentioning him being malnourished. Whoever cared for him obviously didn't do a very good job as they didn't seem to bother with him. Alex's heart shrunk as she thought of the state Andy could be in after being with Brice for seven years. She shuddered slightly, but held still as the boys eyes turned to her, the food in his hand fell back onto the plate. He had turned a funny pale green colour.

'Are you alright?' She asked him, tilting her head to one side. From the look in his eyes, Alex knew what was coming, so she grabbed the small bowl which was sat on the cabinet and placed it just in time in front of the boys face as he threw up his freshly eaten meal. Alex placed a comforting hand on the boys back but his muscles tensed up and he recoiled, shifting away with fear in his eyes. Alex realised what he must have gone through and held up her hands.

'It's alright, I won't hurt you.' She offered the comforting, reassuring words, but the boy remained sceptical. He ducked his head back into the bowl and brought up the very few remains.

Afterwards he sunk his head back against the hospital pillow, eyes shut. Alex stood and walked over to a nearby sink and filled a glass with water. She handed the drink over, the cool glass felt nice in his warm sweaty hands as he cautionly took a sip. Alex smiled reassuringly to him, but the boy was no longer a small ray of cheerfulness, the cold had returned to his eyes as he glared at Alex, as if she were the reason he couldn't stomach any food.

'I know what you're doing.' He very nearly spat the words as he sipped the water again. Alex leaned forward in her chair.

'What would that be?' She asked coolly, wanting to see just how smart this boy really was.

'You're trying to get inside my head. That's what a psychologist does.' Alex raised her eyes at the boy, not certain he really knew what he was saying, and it might have been drilled into his mind by the wrong people.

'No, that's not what I'm doing. I'm trying to help you.'

'Yeah,' He snorted. 'By getting me to confess everything and actin' all trustworthy so you lot can get me on the stand. If I as much as say one bloody word I'll be dead before the nurses switch.'

'Who will kill you?' Alex already knew the answer, as did the boy.

'I can't say his name, just in case but you know him. He's hurt you in one way or another.' Alex blinked and her heart fluttered. He knew something. She reached into her pocket and produced the photo she always carried around with her-Andy in his police uniform.

'Do you know this boy?' The boy took the photo in his one good hand and studied it. He handed it back and shook his head.

'Naw. Never seen him before.'

'Well that's a lie.' The boy whipped his head round fast. 'We had a tip off he would be used in the blag you and your friends decided to pull off, and the other boy you called out to, you named Andrew, his name.' The boy turned his head away, a concentrating look on his face.

'Forced.' He whispered. 'We didn't _decide_ to do it, we were _forced_. There's a big difference.' Alex sighed as she placed the photo back within the safety of her pocket and looked back towards the boy.

'What's your name?' She asked the first question again. The boy slowly turned his head back around, hesitating as he whispered as quiet as the breeze outside.

'Carter. Carter Burdon.'

Alex held her hand out and Carter slowly reached out his own and shook it cautionly.

'Nice to meet you Carter.' Carter gave a small smile before quickly drawing his hand back.

'Please Carter. He's my little boy.' Carter whipped his head back up and studied Alex's face, taking in each detail to memory. He swallowed heavily before he spoke.

'You're...you're Andy's mum?' Alex nodded, gripping the sheets of the hospital bed. Carter's breathing had become heavy as he thought long and hard.

'Where is he?' Alex's hand suddenly lashed out and gripped the boy's pyjama sleeve. Surprisingly Carter didn't react. 'Carter, please tell me where he is. Do you know?'

Carter slowly nodded.

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Alex practically ran into CID later on in the day, just as the afternoon sky began to mingle with the evening moon. She'd talked to Carter for hours, doing all she could to get information out of him, but he was stubborn, repeating over and over that he would be killed if he breathed a word. She said a uniformed office would sit outside his ward, so nobody would get in and hurt him.

Carter had remained sceptical, and if Alex thought so, scared. The boy was terrified of Jonathan Brice, even if he didn't say his name, but Alex could see in his eyes that the man had scared the boy enough to keep his mouth shut.

In the end they had come to a deal.

'Shaz,' Alex called out as she pushed the brown doors open, striding through the office. 'Get me the missing person's files. Search for a Carter Burdon.'

'How far back are we going ma'am?'

'Ten years at the most.' Alex chirped, unable to hide the small fire of happiness that had slowly burned into an inferno inside her stomach.

'You seem happy ma'am, how come?' Shaz asked as she stood up.

'We've made progress, Shaz.' Shaz smiled before leaving the office. Alex strode over to Gene's office and entered without knocking. The Manc Lion himself was facing his window, glass of scotch in hand. He turned to face Alex and saw the smile on his face. She strode round the desk and stood next to him.

'What have we got Madam Fruitcake?'

'We've got help.' She grinned at her husband, he drained the last of his drink and smiled back at her.

**A/N: There you go guys! Looks like there is hope after all. Let's hope Carter tells the truth, and what's the deal he's made with Alex in exchange for the info on Andy?**

**Find out next time! **

**Review and I'll get typing. Hope you all liked that one. **

**Until the next time,**

**Peace out Peeps xox **


	8. Chapter 8

**One day I'll go home**

**A/N: Hello peeps! Thanks to all of you who have reviewed! With this chapter this is the longest story I've written! I started writing this chapter this morning as it came to me in a dream. Spooky. Anyway I doubt you'd complain no waiting for this chapter :)**

**Now, last time we met Carter Burdon, someone who can tell Alex and Gene where Andy is. Is he telling the truth? Will he do what he promises? What's the deal he'd made with Alex? Read to find out!**

**Enjoy!**

One day I'll go home

Chapter 8

_1994 _

'I'm telling you Bolls, Burdon is a liar.' The moment Gene had heard the name Carter Burdon he had out right refused to believe what the boy had said to Alex.

'What makes you say that?' Alex waved her arms up in frustration. Some days Gene acted like he knew everything. 'He's a child and you've never met him personally.'

'No, but he's famous up north for getting caught selling drugs to anyone with a quid in their pocket. He's a liar who knows what to say to get him out of any trouble and back to his pals.'

'Yes, because Brice _forces_ him to do it. He didn't want to do the bank, but Brice made him. He's terrified of the man, and with good reason, just look at the state of him. He's barely seen sunlight and beaten to a pulp!'

'He could have run off, they let him out to sell Speed and Smack, so why didn't he run?'

'I don't know everything! But he's terrified of Brice!'

'We'll see about that.' Gene grumbled. He left the Quattro and strode through the hospital doors, ignoring all the other patients and Doctors as he strode up the stairs to the children's ward. It had taken a lot of convincing to stop Gene bursting back into the hospital as soon as Alex got back the previous night, but as soon as he woke up this morning and was showered he was driving the Quattro at top speed.

The uniformed office sat outside the room which Burdon stayed in tipped his head to Alex and Gene as they pushed the door open. A Nurse was at Burdon's bed...which was empty.

'Where's Burdon?' Gene questioned the young nurse.

'With one of the other nurses, _trying, _and failing if I might add_,_ to get him to take a bath.' The answer should have been obvious; last night Alex couldn't determine Carter's hair colour because it was so filthy with dirt. The two of them stood in the room until the doors swung open and an exhausted looking Nurse hauled Carter back thought the door. The muck was gone from his face, but his hair was still filthy.

'You're turn Laura, this kid's a nightmare.' The woman turned and left before Nurse Laura could protest. Carter just pulled a sour face, but gave a small smile when he saw Alex, but turned to fear when he saw Gene, recognising him.

'Hey Carter.' Alex smiled at the boy who stood rooted to the spot as he stared at Gene, fear dominating his eyes.

'I ain't gonna shoot you again lad, unless you give me a good reason.' Carter started to back away until he was behind the last bed in the room, eyes darting and seeking a place for him to crawl and hide into.

'Nice going Gene.' Alex sighed as she saw Carter was a frozen statue, only his eyes moving as they blinked. 'I'll take care of him,' Alex told Nurse Laura who looked relieved at not having to go through what her friend did.

'Gene, stand outside.' Alex said, Gene raised his eyes at being ordered to do something so he didn't move. Alex stepped over to him and whispered in his ear.

'He's terrified of you, step outside and I'll get him to calm down.' Gene sighed but left back through the doors, leaving Alex and Carter alone. She smiled at the boy and sat on the edge of his bed. The boy stayed still for a few moments, staring at the door as if Gene would burst through and start firing his gun again. He eventually calmed down and wandered back over to his bed, but remained standing, not wanting to sit next to Alex. He was still doubtful.

'He didn't mean to shoot you, Carter.' Alex reassured him as he sat down in a nearby chair and fidgeted with his sling. 'It was an accident.' Carter made a funny noise from the back of his throat which distinctively sounded like a snort, but tried to contain it.

They stayed silence for a few minutes, Alex watching Carter with keen eyes as he fidgeted with a sling and ran his free hand through his filthy hair.

'Why don't you like washing your hair?' The boy looked up momentarily before averting his eyes back to his sling. Alex sighed and knew she was getting no-where so she called for a Nurse who tried to take him for the bath that he really needed. When the Nurse tried the nice way, talking sweetly to him, but Carter screamed out until the Nurse gave in and called for a Doctor to carry him, who was now crouching in the far corner.

'Come on!' Dr. Jacobs cried as he tugged on Carter's one good arm, but the boy shrieked and cried out, kicking his legs at the doctor, more terrified than ever. Alex had left the room and was standing besides Gene who was looking smug.

'Find anything out in there Bolls?'

'Shut up.' She grumbled, turned her head so she wouldn't see Gene smirking at her. They stood outside the room as they listened to the Doctor and Nurse desperately try and get Carter to leave the room for the bathroom.

'Jesus Christ, I've had it!' Gene growled after listening to the boy yell for another five minutes. He burst into the room, closely followed by a curious Alex. She watched as her husband strode over to the terrified and screaming boy, slung him over his shoulder and carried him out of the room. Alex watched, open mouthed as Gene carefully carried the boy over his shoulder, closely followed by a stressed Nurse and a shocked Dr. Jacobs.

'I told him to stay away from the boy!' Jacobs growled, which didn't suit him. Alex raised her eyebrows and muttered under her breath as she jogged after her husband. She found him in one of the bathrooms, a tub full of warm water, but Carter had backed into the far corner of the bathroom like a cornered wildcat.

'I ain't going in!' The boy screamed again as he dodged one of the nurses hands. Alex strode over to the bath and placed a hand in the water.

'Come on Carter, its nice and warm.'

'I don't care if it's bloody melted chocolate! I ain't getting in! Just let me go, I don't like it here!' Alex gave him a sympathetic smile as she walked over to the group who were crowded around the cornered boy.

'I'll make a deal with you Carter.' Alex supplied, gaining the attention of the boy. 'If you get in the tub and get washed then I'll take you out for the day, get you away from here.'

'No! I don't want to get in there and I want to not have to come back.'

'You have to stay here until your arm heals. The most you can do is have a day away from here and see the outdoors, I don't think you get a lot of freedom outside, do you?' Carter's ears pricked at the opportunity and ran the idea through his head. Gene backed up to Alex ad whispered in her ear.

'What the bloody 'ell you playing at Bolly! You take 'im out 'e'll either be killed or leg it!'

'I have to get his trust one way Gene. You'll come and keep an eye on him as well.' The pair turned back to Carter who remained cornered.

'How many deals are yer gonna make with this lad?' But he turned to the Nurse and spoke to her 'We'll sort 'im out.' Gene said to the Nurse who looked happy at being told to leave. As soon as the Nurse had left the bathroom, Carter lowered his stance a touch but was still ready to run if he needed to.

'You'll let me out of here for a day?' Alex nodded. 'But only if I get in there.' Carter pointed at the tub.

'It's not as bad as you think lad.' Gene said. 'You won't get sucked down the plug hole.' Carter rolled his eyes.

'You won't hold me under like the others?' Alex looked shocked at his question. Even Gene looked taken aback.

'No, we're not going to hold you under Carter.' The boy took one unsteady step towards the tub.

'We promise.' Alex held up her hands and backed away from the tub. Carter slowly nodded and took another step towards the water. He placed his one good hand in the water to test the temperature. He pulled of his sling so his arm remained within his bandage. He remained standing besides the tub, still doubtful. His fingers traced along the top button of his pyjama top, not sure if he should take it off.

'You have to take your pyjamas off Carter.' The boy blushed but unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the bruised and moulted back of his body. Cut and scabs ran along in different places. Carter could feel Alex and Gene gaze in horror of the state of his back so he quickly disposed of the rest of his pyjamas and got into the warm tub.

It was actually quite nice, Carter thought as he ran his good arm through the water whilst his bandaged arm he kept over the side. He couldn't keep the grin off his face as he scooped up a handful of bubbles and tried to shake them off his hand. Alex stepped over with a bottle of shampoo. Carter wouldn't put his head under the water so Alex filled a jug with water and rinsed his hair will it was soaked. She applied the soap to his hair and cleaned out all the dirt of who knows how long. Once the dirt had been cleaned up his hair was revealed to be a dark blonde which was in bad need of a haircut as it was like an out-of-control wild mane.

'I'll step outside, ok?' Alex said as he was ready to get out. Carter was terrified of being left on his own with Gene, but Alex reassured him Gene wouldn't hurt him again.

Gene himself was uncertain with being left alone with Carter, but didn't say. As soon as Alex had stepped out the door, Carter whipped his head round to Gene who looked back down to the boy, both said nothing. Gene picked up a towel and spread it out so Carter was covered as soon as he was out. The boy dried himself as Gene opened the bag with a fresh set of clothes the Nurse had given them. Carter finished drying himself and pulled on his clothes. Gene spotted that even his feet were covered in bruises as if someone had deliberately trodden on them with heavy boots.

As soon as the boy was dressed in a fresh set of clothes, he actually looked like a normal boy, instead of a filth-loving street kid with rags. Alex came back in and towel dried his hair. Carter flinched and protested at the contact but Alex didn't listen as she finished rubbing his hair and running a comb through the wild tangles. When finished, Alex took in his appearance and realised he couldn't even be in double figures for his age. It shocked her core that someone so young had gone through so much.

'Deals a deal.' Carter muttered as he stood head to foot in clean clothes and freshly scrubbed hair. He had ditched his sling, keeping his injured arm steady in his pocket. His jeans and green button up shirt hid the scars and bruises, but Gene couldn't shake the image of the beaten body from his mind. He knew what the boy was going through but seeing someone else go through the same thing made his mind bubble with anger as he thought of Brice doing this. Alex smiled at the boy and offered him her hand. He stared at her hand uncertainly but sighed before taking it. Alex led him out of the bathroom, Gene close by, and walked down the children's ward.

Carter Burdon actually looked normal now.

Some of the nurses stared at him as he walked past, not sure if he was the same person when clean. Alex kept tight hold of his hand as they lead his outside to the Quattro. At the sight of the brilliant car, Carter couldn't contain his amazement. Gene gave the lad a small grin as he ran his hands over the paint work. The lad even tried to get under the bonnet, claiming to know about engines, but Gene wouldn't let him. Alex rolled her eyes at the thought of boys and their toys. Carter climbed into the back seat and marvelled at the leather seats of the inside.

'This car is so cool!' The boy cried as the engine started up. Gene took this as encouragement and sped so fast out of the hospital car park it was a miracle they didn't hit anything.

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Gene cursed and yelled at the red light. They'd sat there for ten minutes, each second making the Manc Lion more impatient. Alex looked in the wing mirror to see Carter mess with the scab on his arm.

'Don't pick it; you'll get an infection.' The boy was startled but did as he was told.

It was strange having a child in the back seat, Alex thought as she kept an eye on Carter. She kept looking back to see a two year old asleep in his car seat, but instead it was a stranger, a different boy who wasn't even hers. She wondered what Carter's parents must be going through, as she knew the feeling.

'How long have you been with Brice, Carter?' The question came so suddenly the boy jumped in his seat. The boy stayed silent for a few minutes as he thought. She saw Gene had keen ears as well now.

'A fair few years. Too many for my liking.'

'How long yer known our Andy?' Gene asked as he hit the horn again.

'A few years. But before you ask, _Andrew_ is in mint condition compared to me. I just get into a lot of trouble and I'm Brice's favourite punch bag: A really bad combination.' Alex supposed he knew they would get round to asking that question sooner or later, and she let a sigh of release to escape her lips. They sat in silence after that until the Quattro was given the freedom of the road once again.

'Where we going?' Carter asked as he sat up in his seat. It was like he was trying to see the whole of London at once.

'You'll know it when you see it.' Alex smiled at the boy as they drove to they knew would make him happy.

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Gene parked the Quattro round the corner so Carter wouldn't see. It was a simple place, somewhere where everyone took for granted but at the sight Carter's face lit up.

The park stretched on for nearly a mile, grassy fields, cobble stone paths, a shimmering icy lake which reflected the sun of one of the rare warm days much loved in England. Before Carter entered, Gene grabbed the boys arm and pulled him back. The boy's eyes widened but didn't say anything. Gene pulled out his sunglasses from his pocket and handed them to him.

''Ere, take these.' Carter took the black shades into his hand and pulled them onto his face. 'Don't want anyone recognisin' yer.' Carter nodded as they headed into the park. Nobody gave them a second look.

The day was warm and mild. A slight breeze ruffled the trees and a group of ducks were skimming the edge of the pond. Carter couldn't resist running down the look at them. For a moment Gene and Alex thought he was trying to do a runner, but they froze when they saw the boy captivated by the sight of the animals.

'Carter, come on.' Alex said and the boy reluctantly left the quacking ducks.

They continued on their way down the path, enjoying the sunshine and watching a dog play with its owner. The reached a bench and sat down. Gene pulled out one of his many flasks and took a healthy drink, a small drop of the liquid made its way down the corner of his mouth. Alex pulled her own sunglasses out of her white jacket, slipped them on and sat back, basking in the golden sunlight. Carter didn't know what to do, not having any idea on relaxing. The boy sat stiffly on the bench, watching a group of boys his own age playing football.

All the time he'd been with Brice, he'd dreamed of being normal with those boys, and now was his chance; he could have his family back and live normally. But he knew it was just a dream. If he even thought about contacting his real, far away family then Brice would slash through and make him regret it. Carter was shaken from his day-dreams by a battered football rolling over and grazing the end of his borrowed trainers. He looked across the field at the boys; they were waving their arms, shouting for him to join in. He glanced at Alex, she absorbed in a book she'd brought. Gene was the only one paying attention. Carter gave him a sheepish look. Gene raised his eyebrows but nodded his head.

Carter picked the ball up with his good hand, his bandaged arm tucked in his pocket. He made his way over to the nearest boy and handed him the ball. The lad grinned from beneath his shaggy dark hair.

'I'm Anthony, you?'

'Carter.'

'Fancy a game?' Carter grinned and nodded. Anthony took him over to the other lads who smiled and introduced themselves as Daniel, Charlie, Kevin and Paul. The split into teams of three (Carter, Anthony and Paul against Charlie, Daniel and Kevin) they played for over an hour, just laughing and kicking the ball around, not taking the game seriously.

Eventually, they all departed, the boys going home for their tea. Anthony asked if Carter would like to come with him and Daniel to Kevin's house, but Carter looked back at Gene and Alex and shook his head.

'Can't sorry.' Anthony shrugged.

'Maybe next time.' Carter nodded before heading back over to the bench. For the first time he felt like he had a genuine smile on his face. His trainers sunk deep into the moulded grass as he made his way across, the ground was so soft it masked his footsteps. Maybe he'd try and scare them, they wouldn't hear him.

But he never heard them.

Two lads had snuck up and turned into a full sprint. They grabbed Carter by his injured arm, causing him to cry and lash out. Gene and Alex spun their heads up to see Carter wrestling with two teenagers twice his size. Carter seemed ruthless as he rubbed one boys face into the mud, but his companion grabbed him round the middle and hauled him up.

'Oi!' Gene ran towards the boys, the two teenagers running for it as fast as they could. Carter was left kneeling in the mud. Gene wouldn't catch them so he stopped by the boy. His face had turned into a still mask, the smile erased. Alex ran over and put her hand on his shoulder.

'Are you alright? Carter?' Carter didn't reply to the question. Instead he shook her hand off and asked to go back to the hospital.

In silence, Gene drove back to the hospital. Carter didn't even laugh or grin at his manic speed.

Once they were in the children's ward, Nurse Laura smiled at Carter.

'Have a good day?' But he didn't reply, instead he took of his trainers and climbed back into the hospital bed, still in his clothes, he pulled the sheets up head, blocking anything and anyone out. Alex and Gene stared at the lump which was Carter before leaving. It was pretty obvious-the lads worked for Brice. They had tried to take him back so Carter just hid as he thought of the ticking clock in his head on how long he had before Brice got his hands on him again, and the nightmare restarted.

Beneath the sheets nobody saw the tears Carter let drip down his face.

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The uniformed office which normally sat outside Carter's room had gone for a quick smoke. But even if he was there, he would have let Dr. Jacobs enter. The man pushed the door open and wandered over to the cabinet near the boy's bed. Carter let his head emerge slowly from beneath the sheets. The room had grown steadily darker over the past hours. It was now pitch black, rain slowly pattering against the window, the shapes of the drops reflected over the moonlight on to the walls. He watched in silent fear as Dr. Jacobs opened his doctor's bag, but hid the thing he pulled out. The man turned and saw Carter was awake.

Before he could call out, Carter had the edge of a knife placed against the windpipe in his throat.

'At least you had the sense to remember the one rule of names, _Carter.'_

Carter remained frozen, not daring to call out in fear of what the man would do. He knew him, the face was recognisable, but he hadn't said anything.

'Did you have fun today, _Carter_? You did? Good, remember it because when you get back you won't be seeing anything else but the wrong end of a belt if Brice has his way.' Carter shivered beneath the cold blade. 'Remember, say anything to the fuzz tomorrow a few more old friends will be popping in to see you. Remember that, ok?' Carter nodded. 'Good boy.' Jacobs ruffled his hair as if it had all been a game. 'Don't breathe a word.' The knife was gone from his throat and Dr. Jacobs left.

Carter buried himself down within his sheets again, frozen apart from the rivers making their way down his face once again.

**A/N: Extra long chappy for you all. Poor Carter :( no happiness for him anymore. What's going to happen next? Review and I might be kind, cause next time Carter is supposed to tell Alex and Gene where Andy is, but with this threat, will he? Review and find out!**

**Until the next time, **

**Peace out Peeps xox **


	9. Chapter 9

**One day I'll go home **

**A/N: Hello imaginary constructs! How are we? Peachy or Apple-y? Just ignore me, I'm being fairly weird today, had a cold and a terrible headache in school, rested my head in my arms for a short break and everyone thought I'd fallen asleep! Wish I did, that was one boring class. Anyway, I thought I would be the kind person that I am and write you all a new chapter. Yes, you may bow to me. **

**So, last time poor Carter was threatened, so Brice and his friends can get to him easily enough, let's where this goes. Please Review if you like it. **

**Enjoy! **

One day I'll go home

Chapter 9

_1994 _

_1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8…9…10…_

_The sound of Alex's heels clanked down the corridor, causing an echo which made the small corridor seem positively endless. She moved slowly as she reached the end, careful not to alert and frighten the small figure sat on the ground, back to her, small enough to be a child. But the small figure turned and faced her. Alex assumed they we're looking at her, but the thick tangle of hair was a mess, half covering their face, his face. The mass of tangles and dirt shadowed the visible face, but Alex knew that face. The clanking of her heels grew louder as she picked up speed. But before she could reach him, he had stood and ran inside the door to his right. Alex banged the palm of her hand against the wooden door, which read Interview Room No. 3. Alex continued to bang her palm against the door, but stopped when she heard the giggling. _

_'Come find me Mummy.' _

_1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8…9…_

_Alex pressed her face against the cool varnish of the wood as she listened to the giggling. She relived the same thing night after night, deep within her subconscious. She desperately tried the door handle, screaming in frustration as she pushed the metal down, but to no avail. But after what felt like a lifetime, the handle clicked open. It had never done that before in her dreams. She gulped in what air she could before entering. Instead of the interview room it was if the door opened up to space; the vast night sky lasted forever, stretching out for millions of miles, stars glittering like diamonds against the inky sky. A gentle wind whipped at her hair as she craned her neck, trying to seek out the boy. A giggle and running footsteps echoed behind her, all around her. She whipped her head around to see a small body run past and round the corner. Alex chased after him, leaving the vast depths of the start sky behind the door, locked away._

_1…2…3…4…5…6…7…8…_

_'Andy! Where are you? Baby, where are you?' Alex called out, pleading, as she pounded round the corner, careful on the steps. Never before had there been so many steps, and never before had the dream lasted for so long. She caught glimpse of the small body run behind the desk and towards the cells. Alex felt her heart beating rapidly as she followed, aware of her surroundings._

_1…2…3…4…5…6…7… _

_At the cross roads, the corridors of cells had multiplied, and Alex didn't know which one to venture down. She took a guess and headed down the third from the left. She carefully inspected inside each and every cells as she travelled down the winding corridor, unsure of what she would find. _

_1…2…3…4…5…6…_

_She saw him. He was smiling, like everything was a big game to him. Alex's face cracked into a wide smile at the sight of the small two year old, swaying as he smiled at his mother. She very nearly sprinted as she reached him, wanting to hold him back in her arms, to carry him away from the dangers and to safety. _

_1…2…3…4…5…_

_But it was too late. Just as she reached him, an unseen hand reached out from the dark depths of one of the cells, grabbing the small boys wrist and pulling him deep within the darkening void. The heavy cell door swung to a close and locked, tight and secure. _

_'No!' Alex cried out in anguish as she belted to the door, screaming and crying against the door as she frantically tried to open the door, but it didn't budge. _

_1…2…3…4…_

_The numbers were like breaths of ice as they stung her ears. Alex slammed her hands against the door, hoping to create a dent, but nothing happened. The numbers within her mind continued to tick down, the final numbers whispered in her ear became more solid as they reached the end. The voice was young, and louder. Alex turned an saw a figure beneath the flickering light, silhouetted, key in hand. _

_1…2…3…_

_The figure smiled at her and held the key out towards her. Alex recognised the face of the young boy - Carter Burdon. He held the key just out of arms reach. Alex tried to move forwards but her feet were stuck. Her hand stretched out before her, as far as it could, the edge of her fingers scraping the rusted metal of the key. _

_1…2…_

_Alex cried out as she was so close, so near. All she had to do was move her feet. But she couldn't. She struggled as much as she could, the cold numbers were grazing her ears repeatedly as they reached their end. Carter smiled at her as she tried to grasp the key like it was a life preserver. _

_1…_

_'Bang!' Carter's childish voice called and Alex awoke. _

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Alex sat up in bed in a instant. Her heart racing, her body covered in a mild sheen of sweat. She turned around in the dark cavern of her shared bedroom, checking for the ghosts of her dreams. But she was alone - apart from the snoring form of her husband, Gene Hunt. Alex ran a hand over her face, trying to relax as she regulated her breathing. She glanced at the bedside clock and sighed. It was three-thirty. Alex's form flopped back into bed like a helpless rag doll, closing her eyes. But whenever she closed the lids she saw the smiling face of the small boy before being dragged into the dark depts of the cell. The ghostly image of Carter Burdon's form was visible in the background, smiling and taunting as he held he key, just millimetres out of her reach.

She tossed and turned for what felt like hours but was not even a minute. She huffed as she realised she wasn't going to be sleeping any time soon, Alex climbed out from beneath the thick feather duvet and slipped her robe on and silently padding out of the bedroom, wary of the creaky floorboards and Gene's still form. She descended the stairs, turned and wandered into the kitchen, She flicked the bulb on, illuminating the room. The darkness which was held at bay on the opposite side of the window seemed lifeless and eerie as she made herself a cup of tea. As the kettle boiled, Alex sat at the kitchen table and pulled her notebook towards herself. She flicked to the most recent page and ran over the key facts again.

Andy had been taken by Brice.

Faith Tomlinson had informed them of the blag.

Alex grimaced at the memory of the young girl, so willing to help. But when she'd gotten back to the station, when Gene was asleep at the hospital, Viv had informed her that the young girl had gone missing. The cell hadn't been forced entry. The very opposite: the key had been used. They had no idea who the corrupt officers were, but she and Gene had been keeping a close eye out, but nothing had come up. She turned her head back down to the notebook's lined pages.

Carter worked (Unwillingly, as he put) for Brice, pulling off blags for Brice, and robberies and drug rounds for Brice's friends. She'd contacted Liverpool and Lancaster where Carter Burdon had supposedly been caught selling drugs and they had said they would fax her the information within the next few days when they had the chance. At the mention of having Carter Burdon, Ray and Chris had been overly enthusiastic. It seemed a lot of other divisions had been after Carter for a few years and they couldn't wait to brag about it to every other division up North.

Alex noted to herself that she'd have to keep both Chris and Ray away from Carter as they were talking of snapping his picture and sending off as proof, bragging like maniacs. Alex picked up a biro and mindlessly scribbled in the top corner as she thought long and hard about the connection between Andy and Carter. Andy had been taken back in September 1986, nearly eight years ago now. Carter hadn't mentioned specifically what date he had been taken, but had commented _'A fair few years. Too many for my liking.' _

Carter knew where Andy would be right now, but was reluctant to speak, unless Alex went through with her part of the bargain. Gene had commented on how Alex was 'off her rocket' when she had told him the bargain, saying how Burdon was 'taking her for a ride'. Carter Burdon would only agree to tell them the location of Andrew Hunt only if they allowed him to leave, nobody following him and with no more connections to the police, just let him leave and never be seen again.

Alex had told him how she wouldn't actually let Carter leave, that his life would be in danger the moment he set foot outside the hospital without either of them, the boys at the park had been proof enough for them. It would be tricky, Carter wouldn't be happy but if would be for his own good. She just had to get the location of Andy out of him now.

Which would happen as soon as she saw him in the morning. Well, Alex supposed, it was technically morning now but she wasn't due at the hospital until nine and she supposed Carter wouldn't like being woken up at nearly four in the morning, and Dr. Jacobs wouldn't like it either. There was something off about that man, Alex thought. He denied Gene any contact with the boy had it had taken a lot of convening and pressure to let her talk to him. In the end he had no choice, Alex was a trained Psychologist.

Alex pushed all thoughts of the strange Doctor from her mind as the kettle hissed, signalling boiling point. She moved over to the stove and remove the kettle from the heat source as she poured herself a cup of hot tea. She gentle stirred the milk around inside the mug, patterned with tiny little green circles. She sipped the tea and turned, intending to re-sit at the table, but gave out a small scream and dropped the mug, smashing the ceramic and spilling the hot liquid across the floor, but Alex didn't notice as her eyes were glued to the figure sitting in her seat, face bloodied and a mess. Hair tangled, matted with mud, dust and blood, face screwed up in pain, eyes blank, was Carter Burdon.

Alex stared, but the moment she blinked, the lights went fuzzy and flickered, and when she re-opened them he was gone. The seat had no evidence that anybody had been sitting in it, not a speck of the dirt and blood which had covered the frame of the boy. Alex rubbed her eyes, doing all she could to erase the image of the bloodied boy from behind her eyes. She sighed heavily, convinced that her dreams were catching up with her, but gave it no more thought as she bent down and picked up the shards of the broken mug and wiped up the drink. She threw the sodden towel down in the sink and sighed deeply, leaning over the metal to steady herself. She really was going mad.

The sudden feeling of strong arms encircled her from behind, snapping her out of her thoughts as the face of Gene Hunt appeared in her line of vision.

'What the bleedin' hell ya doin' down here at this time Bolls?' Alex smiled as she leant back into his arms and rested her head in the crook of his shoulder.

'Nothing.' She whispered as she took in his musky smell.

'Were ya dreaming' again?' Alex stiffened and Gene knew the answer to his question. 'Ya need to sleep Bolls, these dreams don't mean anything, so don't be making those cogs inside your nutty head work overtime.' Alex smiled at Gene crude attempt to cheer her up and turned in his arms, seeking the comfort and solace he always offered her after her dreams.

'It was different tonight, Gene.' She whispered into his shoulder as he rubbed a hand up her back, kissing her forehead. 'I was so close. Too close. I knew he would disappear, but I didn't want to think about it.'

'It's just a dream, Alex.' Alex snuggled tighter to him when he used her real name and not her tag. 'They're only dreams. They don't mean nothin'. Don't think 'bout them.' Alex nodded into his neck as he nuzzled her face, stroking her hair back from her face.

'Come on Madame Fruitcake, bed time.' Alex smiled as she held Gene's hand and followed him back upstairs, where she remained the rest of the night in Gene's arms,

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When the morning sun had finally risen, Alex was washed, dressed and ready to go. Gene drove her, in his normal manic style, to the hospital. He followed her up to the children's ward, where they passed Dr. Jacobs. The man had just come out of Burdon's room, apparently trading a new arrival. He gave Alex a small nod, which seemed to be forced, whereas the scowl he sent to Gene he looked more than happy to send. The uniformed office sat outside the room, engrossed in a magazine, unaware of the events that had transpired the previous night. Alex and Gene walked straight in, ignoring the two other children playing in the centre of the room and made their way over to Carter's bed. Nurse Laura gave then a saddened look as they approached, taking in the form of Carter which was still hidden beneath the sheets, as if he hand''t moved all night.

'He won't come out.' The Nurse whispered to them as they closed in. The lump of Carter Burdon was still and unmoving beneath the patterned sheets.

'Carter?' Alex called out, gently placing a hand on the lump. Carter tensed and fidgeted, signalling life, but did not emerge. Alex tried again, but to no avail.

'Bloody 'ell.' Gene grumbled in boredom and pulled the sheets back, exposing the pale and shaking form of Carter Burdon, clearly scared for his life.

'Carter?' Alex kneeled down besides the bed to look the boy in the eye, but his pupils were glassy and unfocused, his breathing shallow and hitched. Alex and Gene both knew this was nothing to do with the two boys at the park.

Somebody else had gotten to him.

Alex sent a worried look to Gene, who sent a puzzled one in return. They both knew the boy was now a target. Alex pointed to a small bag containing pyjamas and Gene nodded, stuffing what clothes the boy had been given into the plastic carrier as Alex gently shook the boys shoulder.

'Carter?' No response. 'Come on, we're taking you out of here.' Carter stirred and his eyes became focused at the mention of leaving.

'Can't.' He whispered. 'They know I'm here, they'll follow. They alway follow. Brice doesn't leave a lose end.' Alex was startled as he had never outright used Brice's name. He must have been terrified to have slipped up like that. Gene had finished packing what merely borrowed possessions the boy had been given and handed the bag to Alex before leaning over and picking the boy up as he wouldn't move himself. Gene was wary of the boy's injured arm as they headed down the corridor, surprised the boy had let him touch him after the shooting incident. When they reached the desk of the children's ward, the nurse on duty insisted on getting Dr. Jacobs to certify it. Gene noted how the boy tensed and shrunk into his large black overcoat at the mention of Dr. Jacobs.

The man was a creep, but was that it? Gene thought as they balding man came out of his office, bemused and infuriated.

'What do you think your doing? Put him back at once, he is still recovering, you cannot simply waltz in here and take him!' Gene raised his eyebrows at the man, but didn't say anything as Alex sent him a small look, and Gene rolled his eyes at the only woman who could tame the Manc Lion as she spoke to the Doctor.

'He is now under police custody, he is being threatened and needs protection. That's my final word, Doctor.' Dr. Jacobs huffed and began rambling on about the process of police custody, but Gene and Alex simply tuned on heel and left out the door, neither of them seeing the deadly glare Dr. Jacobs sent at their backs and the way Carter bit back a terrified scream as the Doctor caught his eye.

**A/N: there you go. Sorry for the lack of awesome action, but it's the best I've got, until the next one anyway. I had the idea of Alex's dream for a while and I'm happy to finally use it. I hope you liked it and if you did please tell me about it. If any of you guys have got any suggestions you'd like me to throw into this then let me know about it and I'll see what magic I can do with the ideas.**

**Until the next time, **

**Peace out Peeps xox **


	10. Chapter 10

**One day I'll go home**

**A/N: Hey everyone, sorry for the delay in this chapter, the busy bee lifestyle is hard. As this is the tenth chapter, I am going to do my best at making it memorable. **

**Enjoy!**

One day I'll go home

Chapter 10

_1994_

Unfinished reports had mounted to an all new high in CID since the attempted robbery of Morton and Devonshire bank. Superintendant Michael Roberts causally strode into the smoke-hazed air of CID, taking in how nobody seemed to be doing anything. DCI Hunt and DI Drake were missing (Probably at the hospital with Carter Burdon, Roberts thought with distain), as were a few others but the ones who still remained were half-asleep, lazily flickering through magazines or half-heartily listening to the mind numbing radio. Roberts raised his brows as he stuck to the borderline of the room, watching, unobserved, with piercing cold grey eyes.

The aging doors swung open again, this time more vigorous, notifying everyone of the new arrival. D.I Ray Carling slumped back through CID and headed to his desk where he slouched back in his seat, hissing as he inspects a few paper cuts on his fingers.

'If I never see another bloody missing person's report, I'll die a happy man.' Carling muttered to D.C. Skelton who had pulled out his walkman headphones. 'There's so many! Too many.' Ray muttered as he drank deep from a mug of coffee which was an hour cold.

'Did you find the right one?' Chris asked as he pulled out his lighter and pack.

'Did I hell. If the Guv wants that report he'll have to dig it out 'imself. I don't wanna see another scrap of paper again. Carter Burdon's not in any of the files of a missing person. Burdon's probably not 'is real name, so 'e's defiantly not on file, so straight to the slammer with 'im.'

'Ever the gentleman, Ray.' D.C Shaz Granger strode through from the kitchenette, mug of steaming tea in her hand, Pink Wafer in the other.

'Whose file were you looking for again anyway?'

'Carter Bloody Burdon. There's no record of him. Fake name, so I dunno who I'm even lookin' for. He might not even be missing. Mummy and Daddy might think he's at school when he's muggin' old ladies pension pots.'

'Can't you just look through the pictures?' Ray turned to Chris and rolled his eyes.

'Of course, why didn't I think of that?' Ray droned on sarcastically. 'Oh, wait a minute; we don't know what he looks like. Div.' Ray muttered the insult as he snatched up one of Chris's cigarettes. Shaz pulled up a seat besides Chris and handed him half her biscuit.

'Didn't you ask Manchester or Liverpool to send a picture down? They have him on criminal record for possession.' Ray glanced at her for a moment before becoming super interested with his lighter.

'I'll wait till 'e comes in. See 'im for me-self.' Shaz rolled her eyes, knowing the thought hadn't crossed his mind.

'Mind you,' Ray said between puffs of smoke. 'I can't wait to tell Litton and them lot that we caught Burdon the moment 'e set foot in Fenchurch. They'll be absolutely gutted.' Ray chuckled.

None of them even noticed Superintendant Roberts slip out of the room; they hadn't even known he'd been there with them.

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The tape recorder clicked as Alex pushed down on the red button. The tape began to whir as it spun within the machine, signalling the recording had started. Across the tabletop, Carter was slumped in his own seat, head hung as if in shame, but only in fear. Alex had asked Gene to stand outside the room, hoping to give the shaken boy just a reassuring presence of safety, but Gene had insisted that a constable do the job whilst he sat in with his wife.

Carter had refused to speak a word of Andy's location, and Alex could see Gene was on edge, on verge of tipping the table over. Alex stretched her hand out across the polished wood to grasp Carter's cold clammy hand in her own.

'You're safe in here, Carter. Nobody is going to get to you.' Carter remained still for a few minutes, before a cold empty smile spread small over his face.

'Safe? In here? Yeah this is the safest place there is.' His voice was dripping with sarcasm as he looked around the room with mock amazement. 'Yeah so safe here, how stupid am I?' Gene's eyes narrowed at the boy. He was living up to the reputation of Carter Burdon now. He was no longer shy; he was cocky and full of himself, able to get himself away from any trouble. Truthfully, Gene believed in the back of his mind that the way Burdon had acted all scared and abused was put on so people underestimated him. It wouldn't surprise him.

'Are you really that thick?' Carter had stood up now, screaming at the two officers. 'He has people everywhere!' The boy was going insane as he moved away from the table and began kicking the wall furiously.

'How do you think he got out?! Back in '86, his tracks from killing Kathy North were covered, evidence burned. He got out of his cell by help of a few friends. Some of those friends told him about a certain kid of two certain offices! He will do anything because he has enough eyes to do what he likes! He'll get away with murder! He _has _gotten away with it. He gets away with beating up innocent people and running off with their kids just so he can show them whose boss!' Carter had finished kicking the wall and had slumped down the wall and began rocking back in forth in the corner.

Both Alex and Gene had frozen with fear when Carter had begun his screaming match, but when the boy had broken down into pieces, Alex left her seat. Gene barred her way with his arm, but Alex just pushed it gently aside and kneeled down next to the boy. Carter's small frame racked with cries so Alex wrapped a comforting arm around the boy's skinny frame, who responded by clinging tightly to the D.I.

Gene watched as Alex soothed the boy, gently rocking Carter back and forth as she had done many years ago with her own child after an injury or nightmare. Anger boiled in his stomach as he thought how Carter was the barrier between them and their son and refused to budge. But the sight of the crying boy put the image of a more terrified barrier rather than a stubborn, selfish barrier.

'Gene?' The door behind him had opened unexpectedly and Superintendant Roberts had strode casually in. The senior office watched the famed Carter Burdon act his age as he continued to cry into D.I Drake's shoulder as she rubbed his back and tried to calm the boy down. He seemed to cling to her as if she would evaporate from is life. Roberts raised his eyebrow but said nothing about the crying child and instead nodded his head left, signalling for Gene to follow him.

The famed Manc Lion stepped outside interview room No.3 and followed the snow-haired man up the stairs to his office. Roberts shut the door behind Gene before walking over to a varnished cabinet, removed two shot glass tumblers and poured a healthy amount of glazed amber liquid into each.

'What's Burdon said to you, Gene?' Roberts asked, groaning as the aged man's knee's clicked whilst he sank himself into his plush office chair.

'Most of it I can't understand. The boy's a bloody wreck.' Gene grimaced as he drank the burning alcohol. Roberts opened a draw and pulled out a faded beige folder, brimming with papered documents. The man opened the first page and pulled out the data sheet. Half the information was missing.

'Burdon's a dangerous menace, Gene. He may be young, probably not even ten yet but he needs to be contained. The boy is known to lie. It is unlikely what he tells you about anything is correct. We don't want you and D.I. Drake going on another wild goose chase, do we Gene?' The man gave what seemed a friendly, kind smile, but Gene didn't like it. With his usual pout in place, Gene drained his glass and placed it on the man's fancy oak desk.

'With all respect, Sir. Carter Burdon doesn't seem to be lying about the whereabouts of a certain other boy. ' Gene's mind flashed back a few days to when he shot Burdon and the boy cried out to his friend to run.

'_Run! Andrew! Just leg it!_' Gene hadn't even seen his son's face, but he could feel the presence of the boy.

'In fact, I don't think he is lying about anything at all.' Gene commented, contradicting his previous thoughts without thinking.

'_Snap out of it Hunt!'_ Gene mentally kicked himself. He didn't know why he was defending Burdon, other than the reason he knew where Andy would be.

Roberts looked sceptical at Gene, but didn't say anything until he had drained his glass.

'Believe what you like Gene, I'm only trying to help. I cannot have you running across the country at the words of a criminal the moment your son's name is mentioned. Andrew is a common name. It is possible young Burdon was talking to somebody else and is leading you on.' Roberts placed the collected file of Carter Burdon into his lap before pouring himself another scotch.

'However, if I think you are becoming distracted from your job, I will suspend you Gene. Both you and Drake. I stopped you chasing your son all those years ago because the scum and filth of London was rising whilst you were distracted. I do not want to see that happen again. Burdon is no longer a number one priority. Find the boy's family and get rid of him, either that or send him to the group home.'

Gene's features didn't shift from his usual facade as he left the office of Superintendant Roberts without a backwards glance; if he did he would see the man glare where Hunt had been before picking the phone up.

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Gene did not return to interview room No.3, instead he turned down the corridor and headed back into the main office of CID.

'Shaz!' The fierce man barked. The young D.C. looked up from the form she was filling in.

'Yes Guv?'

''Ead down the interview room and 'elp Bolly out with Burdon.' Shaz nodded and headed out the door. Gene looked round the room and noticed Chris was missing.

'Where's Christopher?'

'Went for a Jimmy riddle, Guv.' Ray said, not looking up from the girls in his magazine. Gene snatched the magazine up and dumped it in the waste paper bun next to Ray's desk.

'Well then, looks as if you're lookin' through the missing person's reports on your own Raymondo.' Ray sighed as Gene headed towards his own office for a drink.

'There's hundred's of reports, Guv. I've been through all of them and there's no missing person's file for a Carter Burdon of a kid's age.'

'Well go 'ave a look at him and then check the photos, Raymondo.' Ray sighed again, but nodded before heading out the doors of CID after Shaz towards Interview room No.3. Gene remained in his office and began filling out arrest forms to keep Superintendent Roberts off his back. He needed all the time he could if he was going to get Burdon to tell him where Andy is.

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'Guv!' Ray made his way back into CID, exhausted and covered in more paper cuts. 'I've checked out what Burdon looks like and I can't find a single bloody picture of 'im in any reports.'

'You sure Raymondo?' Gene's face was fallen with no leads on who the boy was or where he came from. It was like he had never really existed until Gene had shot him.

'Positive, Guv. There's only his criminal record which just arrived from Manchester. But the strange thing is, there's no picture of _him_ in there!' Gene's ears pricked.

'You got 'is file?' Ray handed over the folder. It was a copy of the one Roberts had briefly let him glimpse in his office. Ray was right; there was no picture of the boy in here. Only a picture of a dark haired teenager who was covered in acne on the first page. Even half the data such as his birthday and guardians were missing. All the reports came from Manchester, Newcastle, Liverpool and Birmingham.

Gene recognised the acne covered teen to be one of the other boys who had been with the group who tried to rob Morton and Devonshire's. Not the boy who he had shot.

'Guv?' Viv knocked on the office door and walked in, joining Ray and Gene mid-discussion.

'That boy-Carter Burdon? I've got his file here for you with his picture in, Guv.' Gene snatched the file and opened the beige file to be greeted with an unhappy looking photo of a much younger so-called Carter Burdon. The name at the top of the file read Charley James, who went missing two years previously. Gene studied the photo of the miserable looking boy before showing Ray for his opinion. Ray agreed that it matched the boy who Gene had last seen crying as a terrified boy in the arms of Alex.

'Went missin' two years ago on a trip up in Brighton, two parents and an older brother. This is him alright. Where'd you find this Skip?'

'It was on the front desk Guv. Someone must have found it and left it, Guv.'

'I didn't see that thing in the missin' peoples draw Guv. Honest.' Gene grunted a response before reading the phone number someone had hastily added at the bottom as the number for the missing boy's parents. Gene turned to his phone and picked up the receiver, holding it to his ears and began putting the numbers in.

'Wait, Guv.' Ray held out his hand. 'You're not gonna call them, are you?'

'No Raymondo I'm ordering a pizza.' Gene's voice dripped sarcasm.

'But don't you think it strange?' Ray said as Gene lit up a cigarette. 'The file magically appears like that?'

'Of course I do you twat. How stupid do you take me for? I'd don't believe a bloody word of this file of 'Charley James' but they want us to follow this trail so let's see who answers the phone.' Gene punched the last numbers in and listened as he was connected to a possible trail to Brice, then hopefully Andy.

**A/N: There you go guys! Hope you liked that chapter, and again I'm sorry for the wait. Anyway, Happy Easter, love the day dedicated to chocolate :) and please Review if you enjoyed this. **

**Until the next time,**

**Peace out Peeps xox **


	11. Chapter 11

**One day I'll go home**

**A/N: Hey Hey! Update time! Thanks to Emma who reviewed. I hope you all liked what happened last time. What's gonna happen next and what is Carter's real name then? Find out here!**

**Enjoy!**

One day I'll go home

Chapter 11

_1994_

After dialling the number on the missing person's report, Gene listened to the apparent voice of Mrs. James. He never gave his name, instead said he had dialled the wrong number and hung up.

'Raymondo, go get Bolly from the interview room. Get Shaz to keep an eye on the kid.'

'Yes Guv.' Ray left the office and Gene studied the missing person's file more closely. Brice must think they were thick. Half of the file was in scribbled handwriting: looks like he's running out of ideas. Alex passed through the squad room and entered Gene's office, drawing the blinds behind her. Gene handed her the report and Alex flicked through the reports as her husband studied the picture that had tagged with it. The boy was a miserable looking bugger.

'Well this has to be Brice's worst attempt. He's obviously panicking. I've got the feeling that Carter knows a lot more than he's telling, that's why Brice wants him back so much.'

'This your psycho-bollocks again or gut instinct, Lady Bolls?' Alex gave him a small smile over the edge of the file.

'A little bit of both.' Gene smiled. 'Also the obvious form of acting fast, this ink hasn't even dried properly.' Alex showed Gene the slight smudge on the pad of her thumb. Gene looked at his own fingers and saw small traces of fresh ink.

'Does Viv know who left it at the desk?'

'Nah, it just magically appeared, a gift from the Wizard of Oz.' Alex rolled her eyes before taking the photo out of Gene's hands and studying it herself.

'That poor boy, god knows how long he's been with Brice. I don't think he's even ten years old yet.' Gene grunted in response. He had suspected that Carter was a lot younger that his voice made him out to be.

'Why do ya think 'e lied 'bout 'is name then Bolls?' Alex sighed as she shut the folder and dropped it on the desk before perching on the edge herself.

'Brice obviously has him under his thumb, so maybe he was taught to give false names. Don't trust a cop.'

''E must know a lot then if Brice wants 'im back yet, those lads we got banged up in the cells 'aven't had any visits.'

'Yeah, he must know too much. Enough to have him prosecuted, as well as many of Brice's friends.' Gene smacked his hands together before rising and draining the last of his glass of scotch.

'Right then, enough playing doctors with the kid, I want everything he knows before lunch time, come along Bolly.' Gene picked up his suit jacket and left the office, Alex right beside him. They passed through the squad room and headed towards the interview room where Alex had left Carter in the care of Shaz. Alex briefly knocked on the door before entering the interview room, only to see Shaz picking up several crayons off the floor. Carter not in sight.

'Where's the kid?' Gene asked. Shaz looked up from picking up a sheet of paper at the sudden arrival.

'Superintendant Roberts took him Guv.'

'Roberts? What the bloody 'ell is 'e playin' at?' Gene left the room and charge for the stairs leading to the senior officers' office on the next level. Alex was about to follow him but Shaz called her back.

'Ma'am?' Shaz walked over and handed the D.I. a folded sheet of yellow paper with a childish scrawl on the front. 'He made that for you,' Shaz explained. 'Told me to give it to you before he left.' Alex just about made out the words _'Thank you'_ on the cover and Alex smiled at the attempt before remembering.

'But he can't read, how did he write this?'

'I wrote it down and he copied it, Ma'am. What's inside is more confusing.' Alex opened the card to see a list of words written inside.

_Mickey match_

_Tower block_

_Trident_

_Seventeen B_

_Get him out_

'He doesn't make things easy does he?' Alex sighed before showing the words to Shaz. 'Any idea what they mean?'Shaz shrugged but continued to look at the words.

'Mickey match? I heard Chris and Ray talking about that. I don't know what it means but I think it's something to do with football. Ask one of them.'

'Brilliant, thanks Shaz.' Alex leapt from the room and went off in search for either Chris or Ray.

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Gene charged into Roberts's office, neither unannounced nor invited. Roberts looked up from his report and drink with a sudden look of surprise, but he half expected Gene to come crashing in.

'I was warned you were never very good at knocking Gene.' Roberts smiled and sipped his drink.

'Where's Burdon?' Gene was not in the mood for games, he needed that boy to talk right now.

'Don't you mean Charley James? I met D.S Carling in the corridor, he told me you found the boy's parents, yet surprisingly enough, you hadn't phoned the parents. I took the liberty. They seemed thrilled to have their son back. I told them you were the one who rescued him, they are ever grateful Gene.' Roberts finished his drink and closed his report. 'I think we should leave that family alone for a while, let them become familiar with each other once more. You can interview him next week.' Fuming inside, it took a lot of mastered self control for Gene not to throttle the man.

'Next week? The boy's probably on his way to bloody Benidorm! That file was faked, they worked for Brice and you just handed him over to them!'

'Come now Gene, surely you don't believe that? They were a sweet family. You have to stop seeing the bad in everyone. Why would Jonathan Brice care about a young kid like that?' Gene pulled a face of great distaste before charging out of the office. He slammed the door behind himself, and in a flash of anger, kicked a nearby bin across the hall way. Gene slumped against the wall and rested his head against the cool brick, hoping to sooth his growing headache. He pulled out his radio and contacted Viv at the front desk.

'Skip? Send a panda round to the James' place. I want to know if they've moved yet. If they haven't, get them to tail them. Don't lose sight of Burdon.' Gene hung up before Viv had the chance to confirm. Gene strode down the corridor and headed back to the squad room of CID.

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'Carling!' Gene burst through the open doors of CID and marched up to the sergeant, who now looked startled beside Chris and Alex.

'Yes Guv?'

'Why the bloody 'ell did you go and tell Roberts about us finding that persons file on Charley James?' Ray looked genuinely surprised and for a moment Gene wondered if Roberts had told him the whole truth.

'I didn't tell 'im, Guv. He came up to me and asked if it were true. He already knew.'

'That lyin bastard!' Gene felt truly on edge. He hid his face in his hands before coming out for air. He caught sight of the yellow folded paper in Alex's hands.

'What you up to know Bolls?' Alex opened the card and showed him the list of words.

'We're trying to figure it out Guv,' Chris explained as he pulled out his lighter and cigarettes. 'Carter left these like clues for us.' Gene snatched the card out of Alex's hands and studied the bad handwriting until he knew every word.

'The Mickey match? That's the one up in Manchester, between Man United and Chelsea.' Alex shrugged and asked for an explanation.

'Bloody Chelsea should have got knocked out with a red card, but referee is bloody blind. People call them Mickey matches 'cause they're just taking the mickey.' At his words, Alex moved to the whiteboard and wrote 'Manchester' down.

'So that's a location. At the bottom he's wrote, 'Get him out', do you think he means...' Alex didn't dare hope, there had been many leads and this could just be another false.

'It could be Bolls. Looks like he is holding up his part of the bargain after all.'

'What about the over words then?' Alex asked, desperate to get the full message. Gene handed the card to Ray and Chris who read the words and tried to make sense of them.

'Hang on,' Ray said and moved over to the filling cabinet and removed an updated map of Manchester and spread it out over a desk.

'Here!' He shouted, his finger pointing to an estate near the stadium.

'The Trident estate?' Alex asked. She glanced back at the card and saw that Carter had written _Trident._

'Yeah,' Gene said as he and Chris moved round to gain a better view of the yellowing map. 'See here, this building is known as the Tower block, dead high, and it's known to be a place junkies and dealers hang out during matches.'

'Well what are we waiting for?' Alex strode over to her desk and retrieved her jacket before head ing to the doors. Gene also strode over and the pair left the police station and headed towards the Quattro. Once inside Alex read the final words again. Get him out.

'He knows Andy is there. How long until kickoff?' Gene pulled out and glanced at his watch.

'Couple of 'ours.' Gene sped out onto the road, ignoring the blaring horns at his sudden outburst. 'Hang on Bolls, we're gonna make a new record time.' Gene was true to his word as Alex clutched her seatbelt, never knowing just how fast her manic husband could drive when determined.

**A/N: Hey, hope I didn't overwhelm you with dialogue. So will they finally find Andy? Or will there be a twist? Review and I'll update sooner, funny how those things work together: P **

**Until the next time,**

**Peace out Peeps xox **


	12. Chapter 12

**One day I'll go home**

**A/N: Hi Guys! SO SORRY about the wait! I know that I am terrible! I hope none of you have lost interest because this is gonna be the chapter that changes the whole story as the final twist shall be revealed. I hope some people are still reading this and if you are I hope you like it! And please tell me what you think as Reviews are much appreciated. Again, sorry for the long wait.**

**Enjoy! **

One day I'll go home

Chapter 12

_1994_

Lights of passing cars warped though the dirt coated window, gliding along the walls and momentarily highlighting the stirring form hunched up on the paved stone floor. The passing headlights burned bright behind the eyes of the form and consciousness finally dawned within the slender frame. The once sandy-haired boy forced his eyes open to see the truth of where he was. Slowly his eyes observed his surroundings with the practise of not drawing any attention. But there was nobody's attention to draw.

Weak, shaking arms pushed the form up, but simply lifting his head from the ground caused the boy to be hit with a wave of nausea and he slumped against the nearest wall and breathed heavily, the pain having near enough plucked all oxygen from his lungs. A sharp pain twisted in the back of his skull, and upon placing his hand there and drawing it back, he wasn't surprised to see the streaks of crimson which was dripping down from his filthy fingernails to the dirt on his palm. But what did surprise him was the damp on his hair which was spilling black dye.

Nausea continued to sweep him off his feet every time he even though about moving so he eventually gave up and remained seated, glancing up to the rectangular window at the base of the ceiling, watching as the warped glass showed the night sky which was occasionally interrupted by the pure light of a passing car, the driver and passengers safe, away from harm's way unlike himself.

He counted twelve cars passing before he heard the clatter of footsteps descending the steps behind the heavily locked door. The bolts scraped back and the door's hinges were forced open. Two gangly men casually strode into the room, grabbed one arm each and heaved him to his feet, ignoring the protests the body made and the groans of pain. His once clean golden honey hair and now raven black which was badly cut hair was yanked back, his jaw stretched open, ready for the water the washed down his parched throat.

He was coughing and spluttering by the time the cup was removed from his cracked lips. His throat cried out for more, but his will wanted to deny the water. He wasn't sure if he had called out for more or not, but his thoughts were moved away as a single slice of bread was shoved down his throat by the tallest, whilst his companion held his wriggling body back from any retaliation. He didn't want to eat, or drink. He just wanted to sleep. To slip back into the peaceful slumber that carried him away from these people, to a world of his own where he was free.

Being yanked away from the reality-made dream had brought his whole world crashing down. He had dreamed of being free, but with those people, no. If he gave into what he wanted more than anything, then those he cared most about would suffer for it. He didn't know then fully, but he still cared. He wouldn't let it happen. All the years of the same threat drilled into his mind had clearly worked, and he hated himself for not figuring out a plausible way of escaping and getting back where he came from.

But loopholes such as these were impossible. Now he was stuck back in a similarly built place where he would suffer endless nights for either someone else amusement, or just for the sake of it.

Every morsel of the buttered bread and water had been crammed down his throat, the two men tossed the nine year old aside like the helpless beaten child he truly was. The soft yellow glow from behind the door was snatched away with a heavy slam, leaving him to rely on the faint traces of moonlight and highlights of the safety of passing cars. He brought his skinny knees to his chest and rested his chin upon them, as he had down many nights after being locked below the surface of the world.

Tears lit like candles with the passing headlights as he thought of the beautiful world he had the chance to roam free in. It was one thing to either have it or not, but to finally savour a precious moment of it then be snatched away from all the possibilities was tearing him apart.

Carter Burdon had been free. But Carter Burdon had simply been a mask: to hide the shivering shell of the real boy who was scared to the core of the new world he'd been shoved into.

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Late attendees and early leaves hustled down the streets of Manchester in small numbers, keeping an ear out for information on the ongoing match and one eye on the steel-coloured coated sky above their heads. Most streets were dead as 9 out of 10 were attending the match with in the roaring stadium. The sleek red Quattro shot down the streets faster than the speed of a penetrating bullet. The car halted on the outskirts of a rundown estate with graffiti donning every door and litter tumbling along in the light breeze.

Echoing down the estate tunnel entrance was the sound of twin doors slamming shut and footsteps walking with a heavy purpose. Debris floated alongside the two as they exited the tunnel and walked through the main square of the estate, which was sat comfortably between four apartment blocks, labelled A to D.

Upon reading the correct sign, Alex Drake strode side by side with her husband as they made their way into apartment block B of the Trident estate. At the thought of every step taking her closer and closer to flat 17B made Alex woozy with excitement and fear. Who would lie on the other side of the door? What would her son be like all these years on? Would he blame her for his kidnap? Or himself? She never realised she had stopped moving until Gene's face was in front of her own and his hand grasping her own. She leaned forward and rested her forehead against his.

'It'll be alright, Bolls. 'E's our Andy. And if 'e's been hurt I will personally stamp on the balls of whoever's in there until the can sing high enough until the ruddy windows break.' Alex smiled at his crude way of helping her out. Gene wasn't one to normally show great affection to anyone but her, and it had always been difficult to express his feelings over the loss of their son, so the threats to their son's captors were a daily remark over the stretching years. And it wasn't as if she could argue; when she got her hands on either Brice or anyone who'd hurt her little boy, well they wouldn't be forgetting her any time soon.

They reached apartment 17 once ascending to the second floor (as there was a layout of ten flats per floor) and the wooden door seemed a flimsy barrier. Gene obviously thought so as without any other attempt he threw his whole weight against the door and the lock burst, slamming the door open, as well as alerting all present occupiers of the dingy apartment. In the entire building, each flat was consistent of two main rooms and a bathroom, but with the ill glowing light and the peeling wallpaper made the flat feel unnerving and dodgy. The single bulb hanging and drifting from the lone fuse cast a dull light over the three occupants of the room. Two of which were buried deep beneath a deflated duvet with several empty bottles of scotch. The third sat bolt right up at a living-room fold away dinner table. The two who remained dead to the world were either in their late twenties or early thirties with far too much facial hair and the smell of stale tobacco, where as the person at the at the table seemed to be twelve at the most, but his exact age unidentifiable with the thick winter hat tucked over the hair of his head.

The boy grabbed a nearby cricket bat as Gene and Alex and advanced.

'Listen 'ere mate, I don't want any trouble. If Sal gave you a crap load then deal it out with 'im.' The boy spoke with a waver in his voice as he gripped the bat tighter. Gene reached forward, and pulled the wood from his hands easily before throwing across the room, not even stirring the others.

'Listen here lad, were lookin' for Andy. 'E's meant to be here, so where is he?!' The boy's sharp eyes focused on Gene's face before travelling to Alex's face, as if he were silently analysing them.

'Oi!' Gene became impatient within the space of a second. 'You thick lad, they not teach you anything in junkie school? Tell me where me son is, NOW!' Gene strode forward one step and gripped the faded jumper of the boy, hoisting him a few inches from the ground. The pre-teen's face split open at once.

'I remember you! You're from London! You! You stupid bastard!' The boy gripped Gene's shirt in his own hands which made no different as Gene was twice his weight and height and could lift the boy over his head, but his face was arranged in puzzlement in the outburst. 'You shot my friend! Bastard! You shot him! Where is he?' Gene's grip of the boy's shirt lessened and the boy managed to pull away.

'You were there? The other lad at the bank robbery? You're Andy?' The boy stiffened at the name.

'Nobody but my mate calls me Andy, I'm Andrew to everyone else, or shit-bag by others. Now tell me where my friend is!'

'I dunno.' Gene dumbly replied as he stared at the boy. Alex stepped forward, wanting to see more of the boy's face which was still hidden by the hat.

'Why you lookin' at me like-...oh.' Something must have clicked in the boy, Andy's, head. 'You think I'm...' His sentence died on his lips as he looked at the pair. Alex moved forward but he stepped back at the sound of a door slamming at the end of the corridor.

'Look, it ain't safe to speak here. A load of pissed up thugs are on their way to get the day's earnin's. You need to jump outta here, now. I'll meet you later when they've buggered off.'

'Wait, no!' Alex cried. 'We're not leaving you-'

'Just go!' The boy cried as he scraped a wad of bank notes from a long empty party seven tin. 'Meet me in half an hour on the bridge by the Trafford Arms.' The boy was incredibly strong for his small frame as he managed to push both Alex and Gene out the apartment door.

'Go!' He cried with a look of rushed desperation before closing the door.

Both were frozen with wonder as they stared at the now closed doors.

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The Trafford Arms' was thriving, as could be seen by both Gene and Alex as they leaned against the edge of the washed brick as the night sky intruded the works of the sun, casting the city into darkness. Lights flickered across the city as they waited. But half an hour came and went. The couple became more and more agitated as every new minute was born and died. Alex leaned into Gene's arms and pressed her face into his chest as they waited. Had something happened? They didn't want to think of any of the horror possibilities that crawled into their already fear filled minds.

'He's not coming. They found out and they've taken him away again.' Alex whispered the words into the evenings curling wind. Gene's face remained in his usual pout as his hair streamed in the wind as a million thoughts crossed his mind. He held Alex's hand and led her towards the parked Quattro. They would head back to the flat and start there. Just as they reached the scarlet doors, a single solitary light was on the brink of the bridge's horizon, and was growing larger as it approached. They didn't think anything of it until the bike stopped in front of them with the rubber tyres screeching. The figure dismounted and walked over. Gene and Alex shared a glance before hurrying over.

'Sorry about the wait. They were a bloody nightmare. Come on.' The boy waved his hand and walked across the road to the stone staircase which descended down the side of the bridge.

'What? Where you going? Get in the car!'

'No, it's too obvious and we're too exposed here. Follow me.' Andy's head disappeared down the side of the bridge and Alex and Gene, hand in hand, followed on.

Andy lead then down several streets Gene hadn't seen in years but remembered well. At random moments, the boy would take a sharp turn and rush down the street, as if he were attempting to shake some invisible stalker.

After twenty minutes of chasing him, Andy led them to a busy pub near the canal. It was impossible to hear your own thoughts in the pub with all the loud rowdy customers, and Andy said it was perfect. They reached the only available table in the furthest corner, near the fire exit and Gene didn't think it was a coincidence. The boy was paranoid he had been followed. To avoid arousing suspicion, they ordered drinks to blend in, but Gene never touched the Bitter and Alex didn't touch the wine, but Andy drained the glass of orange juice they bought him in a moment without hesitation.

'Now, down to business.' The boy joked as he drained the glass of the last few drops.

'Do you know who we are? Andy?' Alex asked as she looked the boy deep in his eyes.

'Yes, but you don't know who _I _am.' Gene frowned at the boy.

'We know who you are lad.'

'No, you don't. You think I'm your son, don't you?' Alex and Gene glanced towards each other, uncertain to where he was heading.

'I'm sorry, but I just share his name. Just look at me.' He pulled off his hat to revel a thick set of red locks, not the blonde hair Andy had that matched Gene. Those were the fatal blows. Neither Alex nor Gene wanted to believe it. They had come so far. But it seemed they had been sent on a wild goose chase.

'He lied. The bloody kid lied to us!' Gene was so infuriated he nearly tipped the table over.

'Hang on, let me finish.' The boy said as he leaned back in his seat. 'I know him. The _real_ Andy Hunt. And from the fact you came chasing _me_, it tells me a lot more than you two see.' Alex seemed to be the only one listening as Gene had stood up and began kicking the wall. She brought him back and soothed him, willing the wrong Andy to continue.

'Ok, so my friend, the one you shot. Where is he?' The boy had the plea in his voice again.

'He's gone. His parents were called and they took him home. But we know they were lying.' Alex spoke the truth and how they couldn't keep Carter Burdon from his so-called parents without proof they were lying fakes.

'Carter Burdon? That's what he's calling himself now? I think I preferred it when he called himself Ziggy Stardust.' The boy leaned forward to whisper the final words, he truly was paranoid. 'I would have thought you would figure it out with the both of you being detectives and all,' Alex or Gene had no idea where he was going. 'But he's lead you on for a reason.' A second glass of orange juice was brought over and the thirsty boy drained the second glass just as fast before continuing.

'How do you think over all this time Jonathan Brice has kept your Andy under lock and key?' The two police officers shrugged. 'Brice used one threat: He told Andy if he ran off then he would kill you both as Andy couldn't remember you and Brice knew who exactly who you were. There's no way out of that one. He had plenty of opportunities to run off, but the threat was drilled in his head. So since he didn't want you hurt, he stayed. Now, Carter Burdon. He's a different story.'

The dawn of the threat Brice placed on their son sunk in and it helped piece so many pieces together. But why change the topic to Carter Burdon, or whatever his name was.

'You know his name's a fake, that's because he didn't want you to know, you'd freak out if you knew. And he thought Brice would kill you if word had gotten back to him that you both had gotten your hands on him.'

'Hold up lad.' Gene interrupted. 'Are you saying what I think your saying?' The wrong Andy nodded his head as he washed his finger along the inside of the glass the scrape the remaining drops of the last glass.

'Carter Burdon is your son. He lied so Brice wouldn't hurt you. How you didn't figure that one out by yourself I don't know. I thought you were supposed to be detectives.' The wrong Andy smiled at the looks of bewilderment that had crawled onto their faces.

In a split second, both Gene and Alex leapt from their seats and charged out of the pub back towards the Quattro, hoping to get back to London soon as possible with their new piece of information which was burning a hole in their hearts.

**A/N: There you go people, the final twist has unravelled. I hope you liked the way I secretly built up to it. Please review with any suggestions or opinions. I need to know if you liked the way I brought that into the story.**

**Until the next time, **

**Peace out Peeps xox **


	13. Chapter 13

**One Day I'll Go Home**

**A/N: Hey Hey, sorry about the wait. Again. I've been thinking and thinking about a good way to write this chapter after the last instalments revelation. I hope this is a good one as it has the showdown. I've written eleven pages, so I hope you all like it, it's jam-packed with action. **

**Enjoy!**

One day I'll go home

Chapter 13

_1994_

The previously dark contained room burst with light when the previously bolted door was unlatched. The young boy had remained huddled in the corner every since the bread and water had been carelessly shoved down his throat. The two new arrivals staggered down the stairs and on instinct, one guarded the door as the other grabbed the boy's skinny arm and hauled him to his feet. The boy had long since learnt not to struggle, as it only resulted in things far worse than being dragged like a doll up some stairs.

Once they reached the ground floor, the skinny lad had his first opportunity to take notice of the location he was held in. Through the windows, only the every-lasting inky black sky could be seen, with the distant glow of the orange street lamps. The room was barely furnished apart from some fold away chairs and a garden table, which looked as if it had seen better days. The room was bare apart from those pieces of furniture, all illuminated by a weak single blub without a shade, swinging from the bare, colourless ceiling.

'Sit down lad.' The taller of the two men forced the boy to sit at the table as the two men paced back and forth in the room. One stood stationary at the window, glancing out every so often but mainly focused on the roll up in between his fingers, whilst the other moved to the far side of the room, speaking into one of those mobile telephones near the size of the man's hand. He spoke casually but there was a definite twinge of fear as he spoke down the line.

'...Yeah. No he's here now, got 'im back, just waiting for pick up. What's the number?' The boy couldn't make out the second half of the conversation, so he began to lose interest...that was until an airline flight was mentioned.

'Quarter to two? It's nearly twelve now, is there not a later one?' Whoever was on the end of the phone didn't like the man's suggestion; the shouts could be heard from across the room. The boy heard his own name mentioned, causing the man on the phone to glance at him, causing the boy to quickly turn his head away and look as if he were interested with the peeling wallpaper.

'Bloody maniac! If the van don't 'urry it up we won't make the god-damn flight.' The man hung the mobile up and took the offered roll up from his companion as he spoke.

'He must be getting senile in his old age, not what he used to be, just sits on the sides and watches now.' The boy listened keenly but tried not to display any of his curiosity on his face, but one of the men caught his eye. He grinned at the boy and inhaled from the paper.

'Lucky you, Andy-boy. Heading out to Germany tonight, Brucie's gonna look after you till boss-man Brice decides what to do with ya.' The man chuckled again and inhaled deeply. At the mention of the name Bruce, Andy tensed up. He'd been on the wrong side of that man one too many times to want to cross him again. But what was worse was the mention of Jonathan Brice. When he got his hands on Andy, the boy wouldn't see normally straight for days.

'Why they still have ya hangin' round, I dunno.' The shorter man said as he lit up a second joint. 'I'd just blast your brains out and take a nice picture, that'll tell people whose boss.' Andy shuffled in his seat and lowered his head into his arms on the table surface, he didn't want them to see him screw his face up as he thought longingly about where he was just days ago. The trip to the park had been a first and it felt as if it had happened centuries ago. But what he missed most of all were the two people who he never thought he'd meet. Especially in those circumstances-getting shot by his own dad was not exactly what he had dreamed when he thought up possibilities of meeting his parents.

He'd had the choice to tell them who he was, but he didn't he took the opportunity and gave it to his friend. His friend who had the same name as him. Andy gave his friend the opportunity as he hadn't been stuck in the wrong crowd as long as he himself had. If there was a chance to get his friend out of harm's way then he'd take it; his friends' safety was his first priority. Andy had spent years with the gang controlled by Jonathan Brice, so long that setting him free was dangerous as he knew too much, he'd heard too much, he'd seen too much to not be a caution.

Tears made their way down his bruised, hollow cheeks as he thought about the look on his mum's face as he lied about not being their son. A small part of him wished he'd blurted out the truth, but his friend had a greater chance of not being hunted down by Brice. One of the men had mentioned the time being close to twelve at night. He hoped his parents had understood his code and gotten Andrew out. If they had reached Andrew up in Manchester then he would have blurted out the truth, knowing what Andrew was like.

As the thoughts of the previous few days drifted in front of his eyes, Andy never noticed the sound of the engine or saw the harsh blinding lights outside the house until there was a harsh banging on the door, followed by two taps of the letter box, signalling it was safe. The man who had the mobile went through the next room to the door whilst his companion charged at Andy and shoved him a jacket, barking at him to hurry up. Once the matted brown fleece was zipped up, a thick set winter hat was pushed down onto top of his head. Andy's arm was gripped by what felt like fearsome claws and dragged into the equally bleak hallway.

The first man was standing in the doorway, his back to his companion and Andy, giving the shaking and shivering nine year old boy a chance to examine more of the house. It looked as if someone rarely lived here, but kept some furniture here, maybe as storage? Andy spied a mirror and got a nasty shock when he glanced at his reflection. He'd grown paler, revelling a large purple/black bruise on his cheek. From what escaped his hat, Andy noticed how his once honey blonde hair had been crudely died black and chopped at, probably done with blunt scissors looking at the work.

Andy was dragged away from his reflection and out of the house into the nights freezing air. The fleece did little to prevent bodily heat loss so Andy stood shivering in the street as one of the men locked up the house and the other opened the doors to the back of a white transit van. A gas lamp was sitting on one of the benches, which gave the man sitting inside a ghostly, nearly ghoul like features as the flame danced along his face. The long, lanky hazel hadn't changed much, except more greasy and grey hair had joined. The face of Jonathan Brice was gaunt, but still the main recurring nightmare in many of Andy's dreams. At the sight of the boy, Brice gave a toothy grin to the boy.

'Hey buddy, long time no see.' These words sent shivers down Andy's spine. It was a phrase often used by people who enjoyed each others company and were friends, but if he was anything, Jonathan Brice was the main reason Andy woke in the middle of the night in a cold sweat.

Andy had remained standing on the pavement in fear, sweat was beginning to tingle on his forehead and his heart had become rapid.

'Get in the van,' one of the men said. Normally, Andy would do what he was told to so he could avoid as many hits as he could, but being locked in the back of a van with Jonathan Brice was pushing his limit-it was as if he'd been forced to step into one of his recurring nightmares. He spun round and attempted his first escape attempt in years, but the arms of two strongly built men blocked him, no matter how much he struggled. They lifted him up, despite the kicks he delivered to them; they were petty compared to fights they got into in the prison yard so Andy's feeble attempts didn't even faze them. They managed to shove the struggling boy into the back of the van and lock the doors, leaving him in the enclosed space with the very man who'd made his life hell for years.

In the back of his mind he desperately hoped Andrew had blabbed and now his parents, knowing the truth, were coming after him.

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Fenchurch East police station was ablaze with chaos as people ran around, arming themselves for what sort of battle was coming up.

'Germany. The one-forty-five flight.' Upon the revelation of Carter Burdon's true identity as their son, Gene Hunt and Alex Drake had bundled their son's friend in the back of the Quattro, heading back to London at such speed it was a wonder how they were still alive. During the ride back, Andrew told them he his full name was Andrew Scott, the missing son of loud-mouth solicitor Patricia Scott whom had appeared on television days ago. They had spoke of every possible movement Brice might make know he had Andy make under his claw. Andrew Scott had spoke on how Brice would probably head abroad into Europe with Andy and lie low for months, maybe even a year or two. At the mention of abroad, Gene had urged the Quattro to reach London faster, getting them to their destination in half the time.

A list of all flights that evening had been placed in front of Andrew as he thought about overheard conversations at the M.O of Brice. Armed officers charged past CID in a blurred movement. Many were heading to the airport to block them off, the armour protection as many officers had been on the reciving end of members of Brice's gang's anger.

'Are you certain, lad?' D.I. Ray Carling asked, Andrew nodded.

'More than once Brice ran out to Germany, there's a disused factory in the outskirts of Munich. I was supposed to go last year but there was rumour of a drugs bust so we had to camp out in Nottingham for a few months, doing small work till the heat died out.'

'Brice would have set off by now,' Alex murmured as she scanned the map. 'Where would he be? Andrew?' They all stared at the red-haired boy as he scanned the map himself with steely grey eyes, prowling every corner of the map.

'Here, Charring-block road.' The boy's filthy fingernail stabbed at the correct road. 'They have a bungalow just a few miles away from the airport. I went there once, one hell of a dump. You don't fancy kipping in that cellar overnight, not with all the pipe noises that happen through the night, and I think the place had rats, couldn't sleep, none of the others sleeping down there could either.' Andrew shuddered at the vile memory.

'Right,' Gene said as he stubbed out his cigarette. 'Shaz,' He looked at the D.C. 'get as many road blocks as you can around the airport, then call the Scott's up, get 'em down 'ere for Andrew. Ray, Chris. You're with me. We're gonna beat the shit out of some thugs who think it's a good idea to kidnap little kids.' Ray and Chris nodded, grim and determined looks in their eyes. They turned and headed towards the door when Gene called Ray back.

'Raymondo, fetch me my search warrant.' Ray grinned, ran into his D.C.I's office and retrieved the crowbar.

'Cool!' Andrew beamed from behind Chris's desk. Gene smiled at the boy's enthusiasm.

'Are you crazy?' Alex yelled as she stepped round the desk. 'If you beat them up as badly as your feeling, they'll cry police brutality and a sympathetic judge will give them a minor sentence lasting under a year.'

'I want to make sure Brice gets the message on how I much I hate his shitty little life.'

'Just don't beat him to a pulp, then he'll never get sentenced, he'll be left roaming the streets, picking up from where he left off.'

'Fine, I won't make the bastard bleed too much.' Gene scowled and headed to the door. Alex followed him.

'Whoa, where do you think your goin', Bolly?'

'Coming with you, I'm getting my son back.'

'No, you're stayin' here. Brice had the chance to hurt you last time, but didn't. There's no knowing what he'll do now.'

'I'm coming. He's my son as well, Gene, I just want him back, plus I think Brice does deserve at least one punch for what he's done.' Gene smiled at Alex before leaning in and holding her close as he kissed her. They parted and smiled at each other.

'Now let's go get our son.' Alex said to him, Gene nodded and they both left CID and headed down to the front desk.

'Oh great.' Gene's voice dripped with sarcasm as he noticed an infuriated Superintendant Roberts standing besides Viv's desk.

'Gene, what the hell do you think you're doing, organising an army by the looks of it. I thought I told you to drop the Carter Burdon case. '

'You did sir,' Alex replied in place of her husband. 'But after speaking to a friend of our son's, we know Andy's exact location. Brice has many thugs under his thumb, we're setting up precautious.' Roberts exhaled through his nose loudly and turned his piercing gaze on Alex.

'I think, D.I Drake, that you and Gene here are getting worked up over nothing. If you walk through those doors I'm afraid I'll have to suspend you. You're wasting police time and effort.'

'Then suspend us, sir.' Gene's voice still carried sarcasm as he followed lines of officers out the doors of the station, Alex at his side.

Tonight, they would get Andy back, or die trying.

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The corner of the van was thick with the sound of muffled whimpers. Brice hadn't been too kind and now a small trickle of blood was making its way down the face of terrified Andy Hunt, as he shrunk up as small as he could and tried to silence his muffled cries, as they could be heard, despite the gag round his mouth and tied strongly at the back of his neck.

In a way, Andy was grateful, he knew Brice could do a lot worse if he wished, and since Andy hadn't spilled any information on him, Brice had been merciful, ever so slightly.

The van continued to rock back and forth as they travelled down the roads of London. The gas lamp had long since extinguished, but car headlights made their way through the tinted glass, shining in his eyes as they moved further and further away from any hope of rescue.

At a sharp turn, Andy skidded across the van's metallic floor and banged against the other side of the van. He had skidded onto his side and was finding it difficult to straighten up as his hands were tightly bound. They never normally did tie him up, but after the small run away attempt, they were going to be stricter and more watchful than ever.

The airport couldn't be a great deal away anymore, and Andy allowed a small tear to fall from his eye to mingle with the flow of blood coming from his nose. Just as he thought all hope was lost, through the tinted glass on the side of the van, he saw the familiar flashing lights of a police car, followed by the wailing siren that could burst eardrums. As Andy's happiness rose, Brice's confidence drained. He stood and stuck his head between the two seats in front of the van.

'Get the hell out of here.' The aging man hissed at the driver.

'Can't boss, they've blocked the road and there's cars behind, we've been sandwiched.'

'If they get in here they'll beat the living shit out of all of us.' The two men up front knew what Brice was getting at and Andy saw them nod at each other. He couldn't see very well at this angle, but he could have sworn he saw a gun being passed over to Brice. His heart quickened and he became obsessed with getting his bounds off his wrists. Brice noticed him struggling and lowered down to his level and slowly placed the gun to his temple.

'If you make one noise or try to make a run for it, I won't hesitate to shoot someone, it could be you or someone else. We'll see.' Andy froze at the threat, but still attempted to remove the bounds behind his back. Brice stuck his head back up front besides the two others.

'Are they searching?'

'Every car, van, lorry, everything boss.' Do we leg it?'

'Well there seems to be no alternative does there you twat. Get ready, get those guns out and prepare to die fighting. One of you grab the boy. If we want anything, he's our only bargaining chip, use him as a barrier if you have to.' The man in the passenger seat clambered into the back and hauled Andy to his unsteady feet. The boy was now wracking with sobs as another gun was stationed at his temple.

'Shut it you little shit.' The man grumbled as they made their way towards the doors. The burly man looked back on Brice who was holding up three fingers, counting down to the perfect moment.

Two fingers. Andy resumed struggling.

When the last finger lowered, Brice and the burly tattooed man charged at the door, Andy cruelly held under the man's arms as they charged out of the van. Guns were blazing the second they were in the night air. Police officers began firing back; a couple were multitasking, firing and shouting in the radio for back up. Brice screamed as he and the two men, one still half dragging Andy, whilst they shot at the officers. They ran down the street at top speed, bullets racing over their heads.

Half way down Burlington Street, the driver of the van got shot in the leg, screamed out in agony and collapsed.

'Kevin!' The man carrying Andy froze.

'What are you fucking doing?!' Brice screamed.

'Nobody shoots my brother!' The man tossed Andy down on the street so the man could freely charged at the offending officer. The fall to the stone pavement was painful and Andy felt slightly dizzy but he worked hard to get to his feet and at his first attempt to run down a nearby alley way, he felt Brice's cold clammy hand grasp his bound wrist and drag him back. Andy stumbled and gave Brice the advantage to put his arm around Andy's neck. In the awkward position, they still managed to rush down the street.

Officers were preoccupied with the bleeding Kevin and his brother who was like a bull on steroids as he charged at them whilst shooting. Brice dragged the struggling boy down some stone flagged steps and along a side road which was on the water edge of the Thames. Brice repeatedly glanced behind him to check they hadn't been spotted. He was becoming increasingly agitated, which made him increase the pressure he had on Andy's neck, very nearly cutting off the boy's oxygen.

They ran along the river bank not far from the main road. That's when the flash of lights came with the siren, and the famed red Quattro stopped. Brice was cornered on the murky riverbank, the barrier the only thing separating them from the land and the drop to the murky waters. Seeing no other option, the gun was re-stationed at Andy's forehead. Officers left their cars, as did Gene Hunt and Alex Drake. D.I Ray Carling and newly promoted D.S. Chris Skelton clambered out of a squad car with their guns out, ready for a blood bath.

Andy was finding it difficult to focus properly as it felt as it his vision was swimming and his head throbbed. All he wanted was to drop off the sleep as the pain was becoming unbearable. His head hurt, and the injury in his shoulder was starting to throb badly.

'Drop it Brice.' Gene said as he stepped down the banking. Brice held the gun high still, his hands shaking slightly.

'I'll do it Hunt, I will. I'll pull the trigger right in front of you, let you see the kid's brains get splattered everywhere.' Brice attempted a laugh but a slight edge in his voice betrayed his fear. Gene pulled his gun out of his holster, but he was uncertain. He'd hit his son once before with a bullet, he couldn't bare it if he did a second time. His eyes cast over to the boy whose neck was tightly held by Brice. Andy seemed nearly incapable of holding himself up, blood and bruises covered his boys face and Gene felt his anger rising dangerously.

'Who can shoot first, eh? Eh, Hunt?' Gene and Brice stared it out for a few seconds. Brice watched as Gene's gun was fixated on his head, as well as many other guns pointed by many different officers, including Alex Drake who was now standing by Hunt's side. Brice only saw one answer and Andy knew what it was. Andy knew what was coming as he was pushed forwards; bullets penetrated the air with a crack and the sound of a body hitting the water. Brice had jumped over the barrister into the Thames. Whether or not a bullet had hit him or not, Andy didn't know as he fell to the grassy banking with a dull thud. The bullets stopped and Gene and Alex charged forward. Andy remained still on the grass coated ground.

'Andy!' He heard their voices call out to him but he didn't have the energy to reply, as he lay on the ground, all he could manage was a groan as someone's hand clasped his shoulder. He kept his eyes closed as all he craved was sleep, but before he drifted off he felt a strong set of arms sit him upright and encircle him tightly. He opened one eye blearily and recognised Gene Hunt. He felt the other side of his body to be tightly hugged by a second person, whom he recognised to be Alex Drake. He couldn't say anything, not even a grunt; all he did was slip unconscious as he heard Gene shout for an ambulance, as he drifted off in his parent's arms.

**A/N: Like it? Love it? Hate it? Let me know in your reviews, as I bet you all want to see what happens next, and is Jonathan Brice really dead? If you have any suggestions, PM me and I'll see what I can do. **

**Until the next time, **

**Peace out Peeps xox**


	14. Chapter 14

**One day I'll go home**

**A/N: So last time it was a happy family reunion, finally Gene and Alex have their son back. Shall we see what happens next? Thanks to those guy's who reviewed and I hope you like this one. It will be mostly about Andy getting used to his parents and vice versa. **

**Enjoy!**

One day I'll go home

Chapter 14

_1994_

It took a while, but the sterile whitewashed walls of the hospital room slowly came into focus. Andy's head rolled across the fluffy pillow as what felt like a marching band paraded inside his skull. His eyes remained bleary for a few more moments before he could make out the shape of the figure sitting at the end of his bed.

'Had a nice nap?' The voice said jokingly, as the red-haired figure of Andrew Scott became reality.

'What happened?' Andy's throat was dry and it was painful to speak. He couldn't remember coming to any hospital, the last thing he could recall was the sound of guns and some strong arms holding him tightly.

'Don't think too hard, the doc says you'll wreck your head. You've been asleep for three days. Good thing you don't snore, mate.' Andy gave a small smile at his friend's attempt at humour. He shut his eyes and began to think about what had caused him to happen. It was difficult to think clearly with the sounds of the medical equipment around him, but eventually he remembered.

It was as if the flood gates opened as his mind was filled with the memories of the events. Brice, the gun, a planned trip to Germany and the intervention by the police. His muscles ached as he pulled himself upright in the bed, he felt so weak that the sheets felt like a ton of bricks weighing him down. The ward he was in was empty apart from him and Andrew. His bed was placed besides the window and he gained a clear view over early morning London and the pale blue sky that had awoken alongside him.

'I can't stay long, my folks are outside, and I just wanted to make sure you were good, the doc said you would be up about now. I've been coming every day, me and _your_ folks.' Andrew turned and delved his hand inside a rucksack he had placed on the clean floor besides his feet. He retrieved a folded newspaper and a small wrapped package in blue wrapping paper.

'This is off my mam and dad. Their way of saying thanks. For getting me out of there, you couldn't have said anything but you did, they've been going crazy themselves.' He passed over the small square package and held up the paper.

'And I thought you'd like to see that.' He dropped the paper on his lap. He couldn't read any of the words, but on the front cover was a picture of himself, or at least he thought was him, being lifted on a stretcher into an ambulance, on the front cover.

Andrew leaned over and clapped the younger boy's shoulder.

'I'll see if I can see you later, but I gotta go now.' Andrew leapt to his feet and heaved his backpack off the floor. Andy nearly asked for him to stay but the pain in his throat forbade it. Andrew reached the door, turned back and waved before exiting the ward, leaving Andy alone. The boy sighed and picked up the paper and studied the page again. He stared at the picture for a long while, taking in every inch of the picture until all he saw where the pixels which made it up. He was so focused in the picture that he never heard the door at the end of the ward swing open again or the two sets of footsteps that made their way towards his bed at the end of the ward.

'Andy?' The voice startled him that he nearly jumped out of the bed. He whipped his head up to see the faces of two people he never thought he'd get to meet. Andy could see tears welling up in Alex's eyes as she looked down at him and even Gene didn't seem to have his usual air of confidence.

Alex couldn't seem to contain herself as she swooped down and hugged Andy as tightly as she could, as if he's be swept away if she let go. The hug came as a shock, but within a microsecond, Andy forced himself out of bed and onto his knees as he hugged his mum back equally tight.

He couldn't believe it, he thought as he buried his face in Alex's stripy top's shoulder, as she stroked his crudely cut messy hair. He was hugging his mum; he was actually, for real, hugging his mum. How many times had he dreamed this? Every night as far as he could remember. After what seemed an eternity, Alex leaned back and studied her son's face.

'Hello.' She said with a smile.

'Hi.' He replied as he smiled back at her and she pulled him back into a tight hug. Andy heard her whispering 'thank you' in a low voice, but who she was saying thank you to, he didn't know. Alex eventually pulled away to a greater distance, still holding Andy's bandaged hand in her own as she stood besides Gene. Gene himself looked rather awkward, as if he didn't know what to do. He moved forward and placed his hands on the boy's shoulders and gave him a small smile. Andy didn't even try to stop himself as he flung his body at Gene's and hugged his arms tightly round his neck.

Gene was startled himself, just as his son had been when first hugging his mother, but soon enough Gene wrapped his arms around his boy's body as he hugged him close, just like he used to when he was small. Andy reached out with one of his hand's and grasped one of Alex's and pulled her in to join the hug, and the three sat on the bed and embraced each other as if they were the only things in the world.

The family continued to hug each other close until a doctor came in, delighted that Andy was awake but annoyed that the boy had attempted to get out of bed. The doctor informed them that Andy needed rest and medication, so Andy was asked to swallow two pills which made him feel as if he were drifting on a soft cushy cloud in the sky. As he lay back down, both Alex and Gene kept tight hold of his left hand, promising him that he would be safe from now on.

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Rich purple velvet had coated the sky when Andy re-awoke. A cold sweat drenched his clothes, droplets surfing down his forehead onto his flushed cheeks. The flustered boy wiped his face dry with the overlarge sleeve of the hospital pyjamas as he tried to block out the graphic images inside his head that had awoken him. The collar of the faded pyjama top was drenched. The soft glow of the bedside lamp illuminated the fresh glass of water, which he gulped down in four swallows, quenching his thirst.

Beats bounced off the walls as Andy's heart continued to beat rapidly. He flung his body back down on top of the pillow, now slightly damp, as his head spun. Nightmares were a common occurrence inside his head, but he had hoped they would die out, but the latest one had been more realistic and more terrifying than usual.

Andy attempted to calm his nerves by going for a walk. It seemed late but he hoped nobody would mind. As he pushed back the covers, which reeked of disinfectant, he placed each of his bare feet on the cold floor slowly, one after the other. His toes twitched at the cool temperature, but adapted. He pushed back the dinosaur patterned curtains as he stumbled down the ward. He very nearly fell over as his feet felt extremely alien and clumsy. He hadn't been out of bed for days, so he took it slow, clinging for life off one of the tables stationed at the next bed. His feet began to slowly wake up, from his smallest toe to his whole lower leg.

The soft yellow light of the lamp left his vision as he pushed his weight onto the brown ward door, leading him into the corridor. Over head he heard a speaker call for a doctor to reach A&E. The corridor was just as clinical as the children's ward, except more bright sheets of sugar paper donned the walls with scribbles of friendly looking nurses and doctors. He padded bare foot down the rest of the lengthy corridor until he reached a turning point. On the right was a brightly lit waiting room, a soft light, a plump friendly looking nurse at a desk and a man standing with his back to Andy, dressed in a black coat as he worked the coffee machine.

To his right was the dark dead end of the corridor, but through the terrace window, the purple late evening sky was highlighted by the flickering lights of the rest of London. He decided to follow the left hand path. He placed his hand against the cool glass and pushed the door open, releasing a cool evening breeze, which was a relief on his flustered face.

The small nine year old stepped out onto the terrace and rested his arms on the ledge as he looked over the city. If he looked down over the balcony, he could see the odd person making their way home. He thought inside what a home might look like. He'd found a children's picture book in a skip once when he was hiding from some thugs in Sheffield, and the bright colours had attracted him. Inside were stereotypes like a warm fire, a warm meal and a cat asleep in the armchair. He wondered what the home of Alex and Gene would be like. He had always dreamed of a proper home, but that had been a little kid. People still saw him as a 'little kid' but he didn't feel like his true age.

He stayed out on the terrace for what could have been a minute or an hour. His train of thought had drifted him away as he thought of all possibilities now that he was free. But one thing egged him in the back of his mind, pushing itself forwards, churning the acid in the pit of his stomach. Had they caught Brice? Or was the man from his nightmares still out there? Prowling around in the dark underworld as he plotted his death or something worse?

He gave off an audible sigh as his head began to pound and his body ached for the comfort of the bed back in the empty ward. He padded down the corridor, only to be devoured by a dark cloaked giant. He cried out at first. The shock and he had no clue who had grabbed him. He struggled and fought back as the giants arms clung tightly around his middle and lifted him high above his height.

'Put me down!' Andy cried out desperately. Was this it? Had Brice evaded capture and sought after him and intend to penetrate his skull with a bullet?

'Calm the 'ell down, lad! Where the 'ell did you go to?' The rough northern accent told him he was not being kidnapped. Gene Hunt dropped his son back on his feet, grabbed his shoulders and looked him in the eye.

'Where the bloody 'ell did you go? I thought that Brice had taken you for a little walk with a bleedin' gun in his hand.' Gene was on the verge of hysterics. He had been on his own as he had very nearly forced Alex to go home for a rest. She had agreed eventually, saying she'd be back within three hours. So Gene had been on his own and after he had returned from the coffee machine to find his son's bed empty. He had spent the last three hours by the boy's bedside, keeping his son safe, then he goes for a drink and the boy disappears.

He charged down the corridor, ready to find Brice and knock seven types of shit out of the bastard, but Andy casually walking out from the terrace was enough to tell him his son was safe.

'I just...air...woke up.' Andy's words stumbled out of his mouth in a calmer. He didn't know what to say. He hadn't thought about the reaction it would make if he left his bed. He looked at Gene's face and dropped his head, mumbling about a dream. Gene sighed through his nose as he glanced at the boys sweat stained pyjamas and got the hint his boy had a nightmare.

'Come on.' Gene stood tall and held out his hand. Andy looked up at the giant of a man, shirt sleeves rolled up and blonde hair messed up from Gene's own hands that ran through it. Andy hesitated but took the man's hand and walked slowly behind the man who was his dad.

Gene walked back down the corridor, holding the smaller hand in his own. He felt the boy slow down and with one glance back, Gene saw that the kid was dead on his feet. He'd been up too long, now he was too tired. Gene let go of his hand, placing his larger ones around the boy's middle and heaved him up again. He felt the lad's skinny frame and made a note to feed his lad with full English breakfast every morning to boost his strength. He carried the half-sleeping boy back to the children's ward.

Gene reached the last unmade bed, sat down on the edge and lowered the limp body onto the mattress, tucking it up with the thick covers. Andy lay on his side, eyes bleary as they were half open half closed. He rested his hand on the boy's shoulder and spoke in a low voice as Andy was drifting off.

'Yer gotta be careful lad. We lost yer once; we don't wanna have to lose you again. Got it?' Andy nodded and Gene gave him a small clap on the shoulder.

'Night Andy.' He murmured as he sat down in the chair at the bedside.

'Night dad.' Andy murmured, naming Gene with his title for the first time since he was two, which caused the northern man to smile as he felt lightened at the status.

**A/N: Aww, sweet. Sorry it wasn't a really big thing. In the next one Andy goes home and the life of the Hunt family will begin. What is gonna happen? Got any idea's, Review or PM me, I'd love to hear your suggestions.**

**Until the next time, **

**Peace out Peeps xox **


	15. Chapter 15

**One day I'll go home**

**A/N: Hey Hey, so sorry for the wait, I know I'm terrible. Here's a newbie for you. Andy goes home and family life begins. But for how long? What shall happen? Read on to find out.**

**Enjoy!**

Once day I'll go home

Chapter 15

_1994 _

There are many ways of being woken up, but the idea of constant prodding on a particularly large and painful bruise was not the best way, Andy thought as his gluey eyes heaved themselves open, to be met with the face of a frowning doctor, with a young looking nurse at his side, jotting notes on a clipboard. A dull echoing moan made its way from within his throat as his head pounded as he slowly woke up.

'Well, at least you're becoming more responsive.' The doctor muttered to himself more than to Andy. The bruise on his forearm was already a molted purple and black, but the prodding had given his arm a dull aching sting.

'Basic pain medication for internal injuries.' The doctor muttered to the nurse who wrote out the prescription. The nurse nodded, scribbled away and left the room.

'Sit up lad.' The doctor said as he rummaged in his pockets for something. Andy heaved himself up right in bed and rubbed one of his gluey eyes with the overlarge pyjama sleeve. The doctor sat down on the edge of the bed and tilted Andy's head back and flicked on a small torch, which he shone in each eye until they watered.

'There doesn't seem to be any lasting effects. Your old wounds have been treated and there seems to be no trauma to the head. I'd say you're ok now. Just take some medicine every morning to keep you from aching.' Andy gave a small nod and leaned back into the pillow. He glanced to his left and saw the two seats which were unoccupied. Before he asked the doctor, the man answered as he caught him looking.

'They're in the waiting room. The nurse is giving them your prescription.'

'Oh.' Andy's mouth made a shape similar to an o. 'Am I leaving?' The doctor nodded as he slotted the chart back.

'Yeah. As soon as you're dressed.' The doctor pointed to a small bundle of clothing at the foot of his bed. Andy crawled out from beneath the covers and began pulling the maroon jumper over his head.

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Alex remained in the brightly lit waiting room as the nurse received and handed them a small package containing pills for any pain Andy may feel.

Today was the day.

Andy was coming home. The doctor had announced that he was no longer in any serious harm so he was free to leave as long as he had the pills regularly. Alex had dreamed of the day her son would come home, and now that it was here, she was on edge. She could sense that Gene was the same. They had made no progress in finding Brice. For all they knew he could have swam the length of the Thames and was anywhere in London now. Both she and Gene had booked time of work for an undecided amount of time. They just wanted to focus on Andy now.

They had left Ray in charge of the search for Jonathan Brice, but one of them would occasionally pop back and help out if needed.

The nurse finished speaking and handed them the small bag of pills. Gene kneeled down and placed the pills in a small bag which held a few pieces that Andy had at the hospital, which included a dozen get well cards and the small present Andrew Scott had given their son; He hadn't got round to opening it yet.

Double doors swung open as the doctor and Andy made their way into the waiting room. Andy's small frame had been dressed up in a pair of new jeans and trainers and a maroon knitted jumper for the cold, which Gene's mother had sent down from Manchester. The elderly Ms. Hunt couldn't make it own so Gene had promised his mother to bring Andy up at the weekend.

Andy was lead by the hand to the waiting couple. Alex offered her hand to her son, who looked at it for a few seconds before giving her a grin and clasped his own hand in hers. At the grin, Alex was reminded of the cheeky two year old who would love to swing on her arm. But this boy, he may be her Andy, but he wasn't that small two year old anymore. All those years had passed without either her or Gene at their son's side. But they were with him now, and they would be a family, no matter what it took.

The automatic doors swished open for them and the small family exited the hospital. Once outside on the streets, Andy's head constantly turned to look at everything. If he was ever on the streets, his head had always been forced down in case anybody recognised him. But now he was free he tried to look at everything at once, the boy was so fascinated that he nearly got stepped on by a passing group, who earned an ear full off Gene.

'Oi,' He bellowed at the group of over exited teenagers as he grasped Andy's other hand. 'Watch where you're bloody walking.' The teens scrambled off at the look on Gene's face. The family then proceeded to where the Quattro was parked across the street in the hospital's private car park.

The grin returned to Andy's face at the sight of the red car. Gene noticed the look on his son's face and led him towards the doors.

'I'll show ya how to work it properly lad, then we can see who can drive faster.' Andy's face cracked into a large grin once more before Alex intervened.

'You are not teaching to drive, Gene. He's nine years old.' Gene started to laugh and Alex rolled her eyes.

'I sort of know how to drive already.' Andy said in a low whisper. Gene grinned and Alex knew she was going to have to hide the car keys at this rate. Happiness could be seen in Gene's driving, as it seemed more fun than dangerous (for once) the man did a three point turn at most corners and sped down streets so fast the red car was nothing but a blur.

The closer and the closer they got to their destination, Andy felt his stomach twist into a knot. He was dreading but also rather excited about going home. All his life he had told himself, whenever the pain had become near unbearable, 'One day I'll go home.' He would repeat that over and over inside his head on a loop to block out the pain that would be inflicted on a daily basis.

But when the car came to a halt and his eyes gazed upon the house, it was a simple fairy big terrace house with a blue front door. He wasn't disappointed, if anything he felt his mind flutter because for some reason, it was like an old memory had surfaced. He saw the house in his mind, but the day had a bit more sunshine than now and he could see himself sitting on the front step in a small set of dungarees, playing with an old football, not a care in the world. The memory evaporated as soon as it had came, but Andy felt a smile permanently etch itself on his face.

Alex lifted the front seat forward and let Andy climb onto the street. Gene moved forwards first, unlocking the door with his keys, as Alex gripped Andy's hand as she led him inside. As Andy took his first step into the hallway, he could clearly see flickers of older memories in his mind's eye. Gene led him into the front room. Andy could feel both parents' eyes on him as he gazed at everything, the fireplace, the TV, the sofa, the stacks of books on the bookshelf, but he became more drawn to the photos on the mantle above the fire. There were a few of Gene and Alex, friends and family at various occasions, but a larger number were of a small blonde haired boy, at the park, half asleep in a pram, playing with a football.

Andy couldn't contain his amazement at the room. He'd spent his life in squats barely furnished, but just the site of magazines on the coffee table was enough to make him go crazy. The boy began to laugh and jump up and down as if he were a kid who had too much sugar in his system. Alex and Gene smiled at the boy as he lowered to his hands and knees and began investigating everything, from the blinds to the carpet beneath the coffee table.

'Do you want to see the rest of the house, Lad?' Gene asked and Andy nodded so fast his head could have dropped off. Gene and Alex showed his the kitchen, the dining room, which had a table covered in books, police reports and some ironing. Andy was running around like crazy, each room felt like a bonus as small memories which people tended to ignore flooded back. He remembered the small vent behind the dining room door, the smell of the kitchen, things he believed to be part of a dream once, but turned out to be real.

The proud parents then proceeded to show him upstairs, the bathroom and their room. When they got to his room, Alex turned the handle slowly, revelling a typical boy's room, blue walls, decorated by the football team Gene had forced Andy to wear the kit for from the day he was born. The bed was far too tiny, baby clothes still remained within the draws and learning books for toddlers sat on the shelf's, but on the dresser beneath the window was a generous pile a wrapped presents. Andy dropped the action figure he'd picked up and pointed to the gifts.

'What are they?' He asked.

'They're for you.' Alex said as she lowered to her knees and wrapped an arm around the boy's shoulders. 'Every Christmas and birthday we got you some things we thought you might have liked.' Andy thought in deep concentration for a minute with a screwed up face.

'Christmas is the winter one, isn't it? And birthdays are a year older thing?' Alex nodded, her mind began making lists of things Andy might not understand like other people, and it nearly brought tears to her eyes.

'Come on lad, we'll show you the back yard.' Gene held out his hand and Andy took a hold of his dad's hand and followed him back downstairs, through the kitchen and out the back door. The back yard was only a small strip of grass, but Andy remembered playing jungles in the grass, watching the ants and a voice in the background telling him not to eat the grass.

By the back gate was an old, battered looking football with the Manchester City logo, faded but still noticeable. Gene caught his son's eyes looking at the ball and walked over and picked it up. The man unbolted the back gate and motioned for Andy to follow. Gene led him into a large backstreet. Towards the left end, a group of kids were using skipping ropes and blowing bubbles. Further up to the right, a woman of around forty was sitting out in a white plastic garden chair.

'Used to bring you out 'ere and kick the ball to ya. You'd laugh like crazy and try an' kick it but always fell over yer own two feet.' Gene grinned as he pulled off his suit jacket, rolled up his sleeves and gave a gentle kick to the ball. It rolled over to Andy's trainer clad feet and the boy just stared at it. He tried thinking of any memory of playing football with his dad, but nothing came to mind.

That's when he decided. If he couldn't remember, he would make up for it right now. Andy grinned and gave the ball a good kick so it shot past Gene, hitting the wall behind him inside the crudely drawn goal on the brick wall. Gene picked the ball up and grinned himself. He kicked it back; aiming for the wall behind Andy, but the boy caught it with his foot and kicked it back harder.

'That's my boy!' Gene clapped as he picked up the ball. He walked over and ruffled Andy's hair and received a hug from Alex who was grinning just as broadly.

At that time they heard a voice down the street call out to Gene and Alex. It was the woman who had been sitting in her garden seat reading the magazine. She stared open mouthed at Andy as if he had two heads. With the look on her face Andy was near checking if a second head had grown on his shoulders.

'That's never your Andy!' She cried out.

'You bet it is Madge!' Alex called out, still grinning as she wrapped an arm around her son's shoulders. 'He finally came home!' The woman, Madge, went crazy at this and yelled.

'Hang on! I've gotta go tell our Terry! Oi! Terry! You're not gonna believe this!' Seconds later Madge returned with a man inches taller than her and a lot broader. He wore thick glasses. Before he knew what was happening, Andy was surrounded by more people from the street as they came out their back yards. The boy was ready to shy away, but before he could, he felt a set of hands clamp his middle and Gene hauled the boy onto his shoulder so the crowing crowd in the backstreet could get a good look at him.

'That's right!' Gene's northern accent boomed as one hand hung onto his son's legs and the other hugged Alex to him. 'Our Andy's come home!'

A grin grew on the boy's face, and Andy was certain the smile would remain there for the rest of his life.

**A/N: Aw, sweet. I am so sorry for the wait for this chapter, I'm getting worse but I'm trying to get back into a weekly habit. We'll see. So, what will happen next, everything's happy now, but you can guess they'll be a twist soon enough. I hope you all liked it and please take a minute to review, I need to know if people are still reading this. **

**Until the next time,**

**Peace out Peeps xox **


	16. Chapter 16

**One day I'll go home**

**A/N: Hi hi! Here we go again, a new chapter for you! Thanks to all the guys who reviewed on the last chapter. I hope you all have been enjoying this, so let's see what you think of this one, it's a long chapter just for you guys. **

**Enjoy!**

One day I'll go home

_Chapter 16 _

_1994_

Rats scuttled across the damp floor, their squeaks multiplied in volume thousands of times throughout the winding tunnels, water dripping from each individual brick, as well as slime from past years, sticking to the construction. Everything within the tunnels was always damp, even the new arrival. The man sat, hidden beneath the stone arches of the continuous tunnels of the sewers, wringing out his clothes. His lank hair which was normally plastered to his scalp with grease was now dripping.

Jonathan Brice was king. In his own world, in his own mind, he was king. He ruled over one of the largest crime syndicates the United Kingdom had seen in a long time. And he would rather rot in hell, flames scorching him alive, than let his empire be ripped away from him. He had built it up with his own hands, and it would live long past his own years, he would see to that. But his precious empire was in threat, all thanks to one child. Of course, many children had gotten tied up in his business, but none of them asked enough questions to be a threat. No, this child, this boy, had seen everything his whole life. He knew how the system worked, who bossed who, the usual suppliers, the delivery times and locations. To change all of that would be nearly impossible.

It was maddening. The only way to deal with the root of the problem was to get rid of the source. Jonathan Brice nodded to himself as he pushed his lengthened hair out of his face as he looked in disgust at the sewer to where he crawled to. It was not a place for a king, for an emperor, for him. No, if anybody deserved to be caged within the brick walls of London's sewage system, it was the Hunt boy. The madman rested against the wall, pulled a packet of cigarettes out and lit up, the flickering flame dancing across the brickwork. After releasing his first breath of smoke, Brice felt much better. He nodded to himself in satisfactory as he thought of the future. His empire would rule over soon. There wouldn't be a street in England that didn't have one of his men on. He liked to think of himself as ambitious, because he simply was. He was ambitious enough to start his business in the open, he was then ambitious enough to kill anyone who stood in his way, he was ambitious enough to take the boy, now, sitting in the dark, he was certain he was ambitious enough to end the boys life.

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Filthy water from the Thames may be dripping down the face of Jonathan Brice, but by early morning, sweat was dripping down the face of a much younger person. Andy Hunt sat up in the dark, nearly screaming as loud as his lungs could manage, but he had just enough self control to bite it back. Andy's heart raced as the dreams of small spaces, drunken madmen and the darkness raced through his head. The boy pushed the sweltering duvet off his body as it was close to suffocation. He stretched out his legs and winced in retaliation as his toes knocked violently against a wall. With the darkness, he could not tell where he was and was near a breakdown, but slowly everything came back to him. He bundled the duvet onto the floor as he crossed the soft carpet in a charge towards the window. He pulled back the curtains and was met by a blinding, but beautifully burning sun high in a near cloudless blue sky.

The golden light seeped through the room, highlighting everything inside, as well as the boy's memories. As he remembered the previous day, his fears of the night evaporated in an instant. He was home. He truly was home. He was in his room, the room he had imaged a thousand times over, but none of the dreams compared to the real thing.

After crowds of neighbours had left their houses and cheered, Andy had one of the best days of his life. His mum and dad had taken him back inside and let Andy decided what he would like for his tea. Gene had suggested curry and a pizza but Alex had thought he might not be able to stomach so much food. She was right. He had wolfed down a plate of egg fried rice, mixed meat curry and four slices of pepperoni pizza and had nearly thrown up there and then, but made it to the bathroom just in time. But he didn't care, he was too happy to let a little sick ruin his day.

Later on, the doorbell had ringed. He had been upstairs, crouching on the landing as he watched who was at the door, but he recognised three faces from when he had been held at the station. Alex had caught him watching from the landing and had brought him down to greet the strangers. It turned out they were good friends of Alex and Gene. The two men had introduced themselves as Chris and Ray, both of them his Godfathers, and Chris's wife, Shaz, his Godmother. The three had doted on him and brought him arms full of toys. He had gone wide eyed at the site and smiled like a maniac.

Ray had bought him a set of toy dinosaurs, and Chris and Shaz gave him a set of tiny toy cars and a toy robot. There and then he had sat at the coffee table, giving the dinosaurs rollerblades from the cars and raced the robot. He hadn't even noticed everyone watching him as he did.

The last thing he could remember was challenging his Dad, his 'Uncle' Chris and his 'Uncle' Ray to see who could eat the most curry, not noticing the eye rolling from Alex and Shaz.

The view from his bedroom window showed the tops of the homes on the other street, but he could see just over the roofs, a small playground, leaves from the trees slowly rustling in the wind. He continued to stare out the window until there was the faint knock at the bedroom door. Alex stepped into the room with a smile on her face.

'Hey, I was wondering if you were up.' Andy smiled at her and in an instant, wrapped his arms around her waist. Alex smiled down at her son and lowered to her knees as she hugged him back equally tight. Alex studied her son's face and saw it looked red and rather sweaty. She placed a hand to his forehead and felt the heat beneath her palm.

'Are you alright?' She asked. She then noticed how the duvet had been kicked off the bed. 'Did you have a dream?' Alex already knew the answer, but Andy denied it. She knew he wouldn't tell unless he wanted to so she wrapped an arm around his shoulders and led him out of his room and down the stairs. They entered the kitchen where Gene had his feet propped on the kitchen table with a cup of tea and muttering to himself as he filled out a police report.

Alex moved over to the counters and flicked the kettle back on. Andy wasn't sure what to do so just stood in the kitchen in his new pyjamas. Gene looked up from his report and gave his son a grin.

'Ya can sit down, ya know lad.' He said, nodding to the spare chairs. Andy quickly sat in the chair opposite his dad and studied what was on the table. Gene watched as the boy flicked through a magazine on the table, pausing to look at pictures but not reading any words. Once they'd put the kid to bed, they had talked about sending him to school. The New Year had already started, but it wasn't too late for him to miss anything. They just wanted him to settle down and be comfortable. But they realised that Andy may not be able to read and the boy was confirming it as Gene could see the look of confusion and concentration on the boy's face as he looked at the words.

Andy's attention was drawn away from the magazine when Alex put a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon and toast in front of him. He smiled and began wolfing down his food with no limits. Gene smiled at the lad when he looked up. The man looked over to Alex who was leaning against the counter, drinking her own tea with a smile on her own face as she also watched Andy eat his breakfast with gusto.

'Careful, you'll make yourself sick again.' Andy nodded and calmed himself down a bit but still at mouthfuls. Andy finished his breakfast within five minutes and sat in his chair with a smile. His face had cooled down and the nightmare had been pushed back in his mind. Alex took his plate away and sat at the third chair between Gene and Andy.

'Andy,' She said. The boy looked at her from his glass of milk. 'Can you read?' Andy knew they'd ask questions soon enough. He was just grateful they weren't about Brice already.

'Some words, I kind of can. But no. Not really.'

'Well, what would you say about starting school?' Andy looked puzzled as he put his glass on the table.

'School?' Andy tried the word out himself. He'd heard about school. He didn't like crowds of people. Crowds always made him feel trapped. But he liked the idea of learning. He knew how to count and multiply. But he could read very little and he couldn't write at all.

Alex was just about to explain more about it, but was interrupted by the ringing sounds from the hall. Gene stood up and left to answer the phone. Alex continued to tell him about what he could learn and making new friends. She was half way through telling him about having to learn to read and write before he could join when Gene re-appeared at the kitchen door.

'Bolly.' He said and motioned for her to follow him into the dining room. Alex stood up and left the kitchen, leaving Andy seated at the table in his pyjamas. He was curious to what they were discussing in private, but he didn't have to listen at the door if he wanted to hear; he could hear Alex's protests from the kitchen. He pushed his seat back as he stood and padded barefoot over to the kitchen door, one hand clutching at the doorframe.

'He can't! I don't want him going anywhere near them!' He heard Alex protest.

'Calm down ya daft woman! I don't want our lad anywhere near them either, but if we want the bastards behind bars for as long as possible he's gotta identify them!' Andy gripped the doorframe tighter. They'd caught somebody. It couldn't be Brice, he _never_ got caught. He was probably laying low in the shadows for now.

He was light on his feet so as soon as the dining room door opened, Andy had already sat back down at the table. Gene came into the kitchen and told him to go and get dressed.

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Andrew Scott had informed Alex and Gene of Andy's love of the band _Nirvana_, so they had already predicted the smile on their son's face as he rushed down the stairs, wearing a new black t shirt with the _Nirvana_ yellow smiley face. Before they left, Alex grabbed a brush from the sideboard and called the nine year old over. She then began straightening his honey blonde locks out. Andy pulled a face and Gene chuckled and grinned at his son's dismay.

'Oi,' Alex joked, pointing the brush at her husband. 'Watch it Hunt or it'll be your hair next.' Gene snorted and before he knew it Alex was at his said, reaching up with the brush. In a moment's instinct, Gene grabbed his wife around the middle and spun her around. Alex was in shock which lead to her dropping the brush.

'Get it lad!' Gene yelled as Alex laughed and fought back. Andy smiled and grabbed the brush from the floor and hid it behind his back. Gene released Alex who gave him a slap on the arm and a kiss before handing him his car keys. The family laughed and headed for the front door.

'Come on lad,' Gene said opened the front door and he led his family outside into the morning light. They climbed into the gleaming red Quattro. Gene started the engine, and just as usual drove with his usual manic speed.

They reached the station within ten minutes. Once the car was parked, Gene began to curse to himself. Even Alex didn't seem happy as they got out of the car. Andy saw why as soon as the car door shut and locked. A short skinny man wearing a flat cap, holding a tape recorder ran up to the family the moment they put a foot on the gravel.

'Hi there, Sean Haddock, evening paper. We've heard all about your story with your son's kidnapping then your reunion, reckon we could chat?' Gene glared at the man, hoisted Andy up onto his back and told the man where to shove the evening paper before walking off.

'Was that really necessary?' Alex asked. She didn't want journalists around them any more than Gene, but didn't agree with his use of language.

'Only way for them to get the message lady Bolls.' Gene said as Andy laughed. They walked through the stations front doors and saw Viv at the desk, surrounded by many other constables. When they all saw Andy's on Gene's back, they all began clapping, much to the boy's confusion. Alex and Gene laughed at the puzzled look the boy made when Gene set him on the ground.

'Welcome back Andy!' Viv called out with a smile. All the constables crowded around and clapped Andy on his shoulders as he made his way through the crowd. He was still puzzled when they managed to get into the corridor heading towards CID.

'What was all that about?' Andy asked. Alex smiled and hugged her son to her side.

'They were all just happy to see that you're ok.' As they walked through the corridor of Fenchurch East station Andy's mind nudged inside his skull, as if he could remember more about the place when he was at the sides of his parents.

Gene lead the way and slammed open the doors of CID, shocking the detectives.

'Right you lot, where are the bastards at?' Gene bellowed as he took off his coat and chucked it in his office.

'They're in the interview room, Guv.' Chris said.

'Any identification on them yet? Alex asked as she strode through the room. Andy watched in awe as his parents got into the game straight away. Shaz caught his eye from her desk and wandered over to him. She offered him the plate she was holding which had been piled with biscuits. Andy smiled and took one of the custard creams and munched happily. Shaz lead him to her desk and the small boy sat on the edge of the wood as she began to fill out reports, Andy watching his parents as they both read the whiteboard pinned with mug shots and surveillance photos.

'Right then,' Gene announced. 'Let's go talk to the scumbags.' Before they left, Alex turned to Andy who was still sitting on Shaz's desk.

'You need to stay here, sweetheart, ok? Stay in this room.' Andy nodded and Alex kissed his forehead. Gene ruffled his hair and the couple walked out of CID. Andy turned back and looked at the other detectives; they were all staring at him.

'Um, hi?' He didn't know what to say. He saw Ray and Chris laughing to themselves. Before he knew it, more people had crowded around him, all of them slapping his back and ruffling his hair.

'Jesus lad you aren't half bloody famous now.' Ray laughed to himself. Everyone began chatting to him, just random questions that came to their minds. Andy was rather enjoying all the attention where he was the centre of attention instead of getting the crap kicked out of him.

Within half an hour, all the detectives had asked him every question under the sun, now he was being paraded on their shoulders, all of them, including Shaz, randomly chanting football anthems, all joking around. Ray and Chris hoisted him onto their shoulders and carried him around the room as if he were king.

By the door, Superintendent Roberts was watching through the glass, a face which caused people to think there was a bad taste in his mouth. The man watched as the boy was paraded on two detective's shoulders, carrying him around the room.

'Sir?' Alex Drake had left the interview room, heading back to CID and her son to see the aging man watching her department through the glass of the door. The Superintendent turned and gave her a forced smile.

'Just watching your department's happiness. I believe congratulations are in order. You finally have your son back.' Alex nodded and spread a smile.

'It's good to finally have him back home where he belongs.' Roberts grunted.

'Just make sure your son does not interrupt their work, CID is a busy department.' Alex frowned but agreed before entering the office and asked for her son. When she returned outside the office, Roberts was gone.

Alex held her son's hand as they walked down the corridor towards the interview room. Once outside the door, Alex stopped, spun on her scarlet high heel and crouched down in front of her son.

'Andy, listen to me. Inside are some or Brice's men.' Just at the name, Alex saw the change in her son, the colour drained from his face and his breathing quickened. 'Andy, listen. Ok, they can't hurt you. There's a recorder in there, we need you to say whether or not they are part of Brice's inner circle.'

'But...I can't, they...they'll.' The boy was close to hyperventilating. Alex shushed the boy and pulled him in for a hug.

'If you tell us who they are, then we can have then sent to court and locked up so they'll never hurt anyone again. You've got to be brave, ok?' Andy hesitated, but nodded all the same. Alex stood tall and re-attached her hand to her son's and led him inside the interview room.

**A/N: There you go: another chapter. I hope you all liked it. I had to add in Andy loving Nirvana as I was listening to one of their CD's as I wrote this. Tune in next time for a new chapter, which will be up next week, cross my heart. Please take a moment to Review and check out my other stories. Let me know if you've got any suggestions. **

**Until the next time,**

**Peace out Peeps xox **


	17. Chapter 17

**One day I'll go home**

**A/N: Hideo! I'm back! Que the evil music! So, shall we see what's gonna happen next? A shout-out thanks to KillerQueenBex for reviewing the last chapter! I cannot believe that it's chapter 17 already. Seems only yesterday I had the sudden idea for this story. Time flies don't it? So let's get on with the story...**

**Enjoy!**

One day I'll go home

_Chapter 17_

_1994_

Just mentioning the name Jonathan Brice was enough to make Andy's stomach twist in fear and anxiety. But any of the monkeys that worked for the man still caused a sweat to break out and for the young boy to feel sick. But his mother was right: if he didn't confirm that they were part of Brice's gang, then they would be released and many people would suffer from them.

One of the girls who worked with Brice had told him that doing something that scares you might just be the right thing to do. Her name was Faith. Andy hadn't seen the young girl for a while and hoped that maybe his Mum or Dad would be able to trace her and help her out of Brice's dirty work. But right now he had to focus on the two men who were sitting on the opposite side of the interview room door.

Alex saw her son gather his confidence as they walked into the room. Alex gave her son a reassuring squeeze of the hand as they stepped into the dimly lit room, hazy with cigarette smoke. She could hear her son's heart beat even faster as he saw two men who had made his life hell.

The first man was a brutish looking man. With tattoos all up both his arms and some of his neck, several piercings and muscles that stretched so tight through his shirt it was a wonder his skin hadn't torn.

The second man was less impressive compared to his companion. When Alex had stepped into the interview room with Gene and saw the man, she (and her husband) was shocked to core to see the skinny, near-bald Dr. Jacobs whom had treated Andy when he had been hiding behind the alias of Carter Burdon. The man had been found with the tattooed man hiding within a disused shop with several others. Gene had nearly knocked the man's teeth out there and then if Alex hadn't held him back. When Gene had been forced back, Jacobs had given a smug little grin, causing Alex to give him an almighty slap across the face.

Andy remained staring at the two men, both whom were giving him a cool look.

'Andy, tell us, who are these people and what have they done?' Gene sat at the table as well, he watched his son move his mouth a few times, but no words being spoken, like a helpless fish. The boy nodded.

'You have to say it, lad.'

'Yeah. They work for Brice.' The two men were now fidgeting. They had clearly thought Andy would clam up and not speak, but they both knew they were on the rocks now. 'That one there,' Andy pointed to Dr. Jacobs. 'He threatened to kill me in the hospital if I said my real name, the other one,' He pointed to the tattooed man. 'He used me as a punch bag for years. I was meant to stay with him in Germany. He apparently was going to teach me a lesson, meaning I was going to get my head kicked in.' For the benefit of the tape Alex spoke about which of the men Andy spoke about for each description.

'Can you tell us what other dealings they have been involved in.' Alex asked and Andy gambled on. The two men looked to the police solicitor to defend them, but the man was helpless as the boy raved on about drugs, abuse, weapons and abduction.

'You little shit,' The tattooed man stood to his feet and leaned across the table. 'When I get my hands on you I'll-' Gene stood up at once and grabbed the man's shirt.

'You even say one more word to my son and I'll knock you out so hard that when you come around, if ever, you'll be thinking it's the bloody New Year.' Normally Gene would batter the man, he badly wanted to, but the tape recorder was still running and a single bruise on either man and they would cry police brutality and they'd get no-where. Gene shoved the man and he sat down back in his seat. Gene remained standing. The police solicitor spoke up.

'So, er, are you going to charge them?' It was a stupid question as the answer was obvious with the testimony given by Andy.

'Consider the scum charged.' Gene spat and switched the recorder off before leaving the room with Alex and Andy, leaving the two constables in the room to cuff the men and lead them to the cells.

The men were shoved past them in the corridor and the tattooed man held his tongue after Gene's warning, but Dr. Jacobs gave Andy a cold stare of pure hatred. The boy shrunk back and Gene placed a hand on his son's smaller shoulder.

As the two criminals were shoved to the cells, the three headed back into the office of CID.

Gene straight away headed into his office to pour himself a drink before announcing to the department what they were to do.

'Right you lot,' The man said, getting in his Manc Lion mode, hand's in his pockets. 'There are still plenty of Brice's men still out there, get them all in the cells as fast as you can. Also, apart from the monkeys, the organ grinder's still out there. Find Brice so I can teach the piece of shite a lesson. Mush.' The detectives began hustling around the room, heading out of the office or sitting at desks and making phone calls.

Alex sat at her desk and began filling out the arrest forms of Dr. Jacobs and the other man who they'd discovered was called Bruce Fairwright.

'Ma'am?' Chris came over with his hands full of several mug shots of past convicted criminals.

'Yes, Chris?' The young Detective Sergeant showed her a photo of two men beating a man in the middle of a crowded street. The two beaters seemed to be Bruce Fairwright and another man.

'I thought this would help with the conviction of the bloke in the cells, but I haven't got an ID on the other bloke.' Alex's eyes cast over to Andy, who was stood beside her desk. She could see her son's eyes on the photo, as if he was thinking of the second man's name. She turned to the boy and smiled at him.

'Chris, go through all the unidentified photo's of whoever was thought to be part of Brice's gang and show them to Andy.' She turned to her son. 'Will you be able to help out Chris with the photos, maybe put a name to whoever you can?' Andy nodded and smiled at Alex, who patted her son's cheek before shooing him over to Chris's desk.

She watched as Chris pulled out some photos from a faded folder, place the pictures on the desk and show them to her son. For the first few, the young boy shook his head, but after awhile he began nodding and telling Chris names, who wrote them down on sticky notes and added any extra details the boy knew.

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An hour had passed and Gene had finally finished the report on the arrest of several other men who had no connection to the case of his son. He drained the last of his scotch, dropping the glass on the desk and kicked his feet of the edge of his desk. He glanced out his office door over to where his son was standing by Ray's desk, both Ray and Chris capturing the boy's attention with cheap magic tricks, making a coin 'appear' magically from his ear and Chris practising his card trick. It had become a new craze for the Detective Sergeant.

He offered the deck to Andy and the boy picked one card out and didn't show Chris, before slotting it back into the pile. Chris then proceeded to shuffled and act all superior when he pulled a random card from the deck and showed it Andy. The boy shook his head and Chris began shuffling through the deck, desperately trying to find the right card. Gene saw Andy smile and begin the laugh and Ray to shake his head at Chris but laugh at his friend's dire attempts to get the right card.

Andy continued to wait for Chris to pull out the right card when he caught Gene's eye. The boy smiled and waved at his Dad. Gene grinned back and motioned for the boy to head into his office. Andy ran over from where Chris was still trying to get the right card.

Gene ruffled his son's blonde locks when the smiling boy came over. 'You doin' alright out there lad?' Andy nodded eagerly.

'Uncle Chris is showing me some magic tricks he knows, but he can't get the card one right. I got the ace of spades, but he keeps pulling out the queen of hearts.' Gene chuckled and lifted the lad up onto his desk.

'You thought anymore of school?'

'It seems ok, but I can't read, just some words that I picked up. I can't write at all.' Gene made a funny grunt from the back of his throat as he thought of all the possible names and punches he could give to Brice right now. He opened his desk and took out a notepad, pencil and a learning book Alex had bought for Andy to learn from.

'Look here,' Gene said as he flicked through the book. He pointed out various words to his son then asked the boy to find those words on a different page. He then began writing out the letters for the boy to copy. Andy jumped from the desk surface and crouched down on his knees in front of the desk, watching the lead of the pencil spell out the words.

'Now you try.' Andy took the offered pencil and pressed the lead down hard on the paper. The lead snapped and Andy dropped the pencil, his face burning.

'Careful,' Gene said as he took the pencil and sharpened it. 'Now try again.' Andy took the newly sharpened pencil and tried again, only lighter.

After a lot of arm aching and struggling, Andy had written his first sentence. The state of the handwriting was terrible, but the words clearly said '_My name is Andrew Hunt.' _Andy beamed at his creation so much it seemed that his face would crack. He grabbed the notepad and ran from the office, running over to Alex, proudly showing of the sentence. Gene grinned as he watched the boy show the sentence off to everyone in the room and get hair ruffles and pats on the back. Both Alex and Shaz gave him a hug when he showed them.

Not to soon later, Gene was teaching the boy other words from the book which he later, made Andy read in a struggling voice until he learned all the words on one page and was able to recognize them on any other, including posters and notices around Gene's office.

It was clear he was bright and picked up things fast. Gene felt proud of his son as Andy began to read some more of the book and try and write it down. Gene suspected that the boy would soon be able to write out his own made up sentences.

That's when Ray knocked on the office.

'Guv just got a phone call. Some kids found a body down by the docks, seems pretty bad, some plods are already down there.' Gene stood to attention straight away.

'Come on lad.' Andy stood to his feet and followed his dad out of his office.

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The gleaming red Quattro shone in the watery sunlight of the afternoon. The whole docks had been cornered off. A small crowd had gathered at the barrier, asking a few questions, but it was nothing out of the usual. Alex had made Andy stay in the car whilst she, Gene, Ray and Chris headed over to where a body had been found, badly beaten and bruised, wrapped in fishing nets, left abandoned inside a skip besides a rundown ware house, just on the waterfront.

The four officers were standing around the body, watched from afar by Andy who was seated inside the safety of the Quattro. He couldn't see much so he sat back in his seat. He rested his head on the ledge and looked out to the right window to the slowly lapping waters of the river. Across he could see high rise buildings of London and imagined what the view could be like. As he gazed out across the water, something caught his eye: something purple.

Something that looked familiar

Just over the concrete ledge of the dock, a piece of thick purple fabric could be seen bobbing gently in the water current, making its way out to sea but somehow being pulled back. It looked like a bag, and he noticed there was a long handle caught on a small, near invisible, hook peaking out of the side of the concrete floor. Andy glanced back out of the main windscreen and saw the four detectives still crowded around the body. Nobody was looking his way so he couldn't point out the bag.

Deciding what to do, Andy pushed the seat in front forwards and unlocked the car door. He climbed out into the salty smelling breeze which whipped his hair and walked over to the edge of the dock. All the constables were over with his Mum, Dad and Uncle's so nobody noticed as he got down on his stomach and stretched his hand down over the edge to where the handle of the bag was caught. He had to be careful because if he dismantled the handle from the hook and lost his grip then the bag would sink down into the murky depths of the river.

'Andy!' He heard his Mum's voice shout and her heels run over to him. 'I told you to stay in the car.' Alex never finished her rant as she saw what her son had found. She called a constable over who had longer arms and the man reached down over the edge to retrieve the bag. By that time, everyone else had surrounded the scene.

'What did you find lad?' Gene asked as he lifted Andy up off the ground.

'It looks like a bag.' The constable said as he managed to pull it out of the flowing river. It was badly damaged; it seemed a knife had slashed the fabric, producing a tear across the main part of the bag. The purple fabric of the messenger bag was also stained with a mysterious dark substance.

'Is that...' Chris trailed off as Ray nodded.

'Blood.'

The constable placed the bag on the floor so he would not place anymore fingerprints on the bag than what was necessary. Andy gazed at all the pins, badges and key rings on the bag, thinking about where he had seen it before.

Then it clicked in his mind.

'That's Faith's bag.' He looked up at everyone who all shared grave looks with each other. Andy noticed Ray glance back at the body they'd been alerted to. Andy walked from the group to get a better view but Gene put an arm around the boy's middle and held him back.

'It's not...It can't be. Can it?' Colour had drained from the boys face and Gene shook his head at Ray and Chris who nodded and jogged off back to the body.

'It's not Faith, it can't be.' Andy was struggling. His insides had turned cold as he got a glimpse of the blood stained t-shirt which showed the same boy-band Faith loved much.

'No!' He cried, now struggling badly. Gene strengthened his grip around Andy's middle and lifted him off the floor, pulling him further away from the body. 'It's not! It isn't! I told her! I told her not to make him angry! Faith!' He cried out even more when Gene turned him away from the body, fighting all he could to get to Faith's side. Tears streamed down his face as he continued to fight, not wanting to believe that Brice had killed one of the kindest people he had known.

**A/N: Aww, poor Andy :( I'm terrible for writing it, but its part of the plot, sorry. Don't hate me. Hope you liked it tho. I'll try and get the new chapter up as soon as I've written it. **

**Until the next time, **

**Peace out Peeps xox **


	18. Chapter 18

**One day I'll go home**

**A/N: Hi guys, just back off my holiday to the north, so I thought I'd write you all a brand new chapter. Last time, poor Andy got a shock, how will he cope, read on to find out. **

**Enjoy!**

One Day I'll go home

_Chapter 18_

_1994_

It only takes a few minutes for a silence to become awkward. But after twenty minutes inside the Quattro, the atmosphere was so thick with tension you could cut it with a blunt knife.

Andy had fought, cried and kicked as he didn't want to believe the terrible truth which clouded his mind and burned his heart. Faith had been kind and caring. One of the very few people who hadn't beaten him senseless in his life.

But now she was gone.

He had warned her so many times. Make Brice unhappy and you won't ever forget it. But Andy supposed Faith wouldn't be able to remember anything now that she was dead. Just the thought of Faith used to bring a small, bright smile to his face, but as he thought of her still, unmoving body drenched in scarlet blood, his insides froze and cracked painfully at the slightest thought.

Andy hadn't spoken a word after being placed in the Quattro by Gene. He had frozen, become still and stiff. The tears and screams had by now subsided.

As the noticeable car drew to a halt, Andy didn't even flinch. He felt as if all the muscles within his body had given up. All he wanted now was to find a hole and crawl into the dark depths, never to surface in sunlight again.

His parents left the vehicle and Gene pulled the driver's seat forward, allowing his son to clamber out, but he didn't move. Andy remained under safeguard of the seatbelt, not moving an inch. His eyes stared blankly ahead, not really focusing on anything.

Gene sighed as he saw his son was incapable of moving so he leaned into the car, undid the seatbelt and lifted the boy out of the car. Andy's head tilted to stare at the ground.

Both parents shared a glance at one another before Alex crouched down onto her knees in front of her son, rested and her hand on his cold cheek and looked into his face, but gaining no response she spoke in a whisper to him.

'Andy, I know it hurts. But it'll get better, I promise.' Andy didn't say anything. If anything, Alex was sure her son's skin had become colder beneath her palm. Before she could continue her comfort, Andy stumbled away; his whole body shaking as he half tripped half ran up he steps towards the station.

Alex made a move to follow her distraught son, but Gene's hand connected to her shoulder.

'Give 'im some space Bolly. I'll get Skip to keep an eye on the door so 'e don't go wandering off. The lad just needs some alone time.' Alex nodded and followed her husband up the stone steps themselves to begin the mountainous amount of paperwork which had generated due to the young girl's murder.

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'Hey, Andy, you alright mate?'

You ok, Andy?'

'Hey lad, what's up with ya?'

Every time an officer passed him, no matter what department, they stopped and called out to him, wondering about the thick salty tears which were beginning to descend again. He wished he they didn't know him, and then they would ignore him. He wished he had never come here. No. That he didn't. He would rather be here, with people probing him with questions than be back with Brice. But then again, if he had still been with Brice, then maybe Faith would still be alive.

More people stopped and tried to talk to him but Andy just ignored them and ran as fast as he could for as far as he could. He didn't even stop when Shaz came out into CID's corridor and called out to him.

He continued to run until he could run no more.

He ended up on the highest floor, inside a disused office, dust layered thick upon desks and within the stale air, causing his nose to twitch. Andy didn't want to stop. If he stopped his mind crawled back to Faith and her battered form, abandoned on the damp concrete of the docks. There was no other way out of the office so Andy ran to the furthest desk, crawled underneath and began sucking his thumb, something he had no done for years, showing the true effects the loss of his greatest friend had on him.

His small body began to rock back and forth in a slow motion as his teeth clamped down on the skin of his thumb. Tears continued to stream and eventually cascaded down his face. The boy continued to cry until he ran out of tears. Every second he a moment to think lead himself to believe Faith's death was his entire fault.

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Nearly an hour had passed since the detectives had returned from the morgue to gain details on the brutal murder of Faith Tomlinson. Whoever had killed her (Brice becoming the main suspect in an instant) hadn't been kind.

Gene sat in his office, one eye on the rowdy crowd outside his office door and the other eye on the clock mounted high on the wall. The Manc Lion threw his pen down in distain; the report on the murder was sickening to the stomach. He had only spoke to the girl briefly after Viv had come chasing him all those weeks ago. She had been an alright girl and Gene felt he was in her debt. She could have kept quiet about Andy as many had over the years, but she had spoken out, revealing the truth, only to be brought back to earth with a brutal and expected painful ending.

Gene's train of thought was halted abruptly as the distant sound of a ringing phone reached his ears. He looked through the glass of his door to see Ray answer the phone. The Manc Lion stood tall and left the office, leaning against the doorframe as Ray finished up his call. The Inspector then proceeded to slam the phone back into the receiver and look up to his superior office.

'Guv. Just had a tip off. Some old bloke saw a man with Brice's description climb out of a service hatch along the edge of the river on south. He's gone now be the oldie reckons he's still about.'

'Right, Ray, get every plod down there now and scope the place out. Check every inch of a mile and a half from that spot. Talk to the old bloke and get everything you can out of him.'

Chairs scraped back as everyone began to rush around and organise whatever they could. Gene made his way through the thick crowd to where Alex was.

'Where's Andy at?'

'Viv says he's still in the station somewhere but nobody knows where.' At this Alex charged out of CID in search of her son whilst Gene continued to order the other detectives around.

Alex climbed up the stairs leading to the store cupboards, thinking that Andy may have hidden away inside one of them. She checked out all cupboards and offices but he was nowhere to be found.

It was only when she reached the last disused office when she saw a pair of trainers sticking out from beneath the farthest desk. Alex's heels clanked as she travelled through the air of dust and reached the desk. She crouched down besides the foot gap and what she saw made her heart twist.

Andy had stayed beneath the desk the entire time, slowing rocking back and forth, still sucking his thumb. His blonde hair tips had strung together in sweat and his face was a mixture of that and salty tears.

Alex reached out a hand and rested it on the denim clad knee. Andy's body jerked violently and his head shot up to look his mother in the eye. Alex gave him a small smile and motioned with her arms for him to come out from under the desk. At first, Andy was reluctant, but eventually he crawled out from beneath the desk and sat at Alex's side, who proceeded to wrap an arm around her son and hold him close as the last few tears dripped down the boy's face.

Andy kept his arms wrapped around Alex as he buried his face in her blouse, sniffing and giving off small coughs. Alex was reminded when she had done this when Andy had been hiding behind the identity of Carter Burdon, knowing Brice was going to kill him. That felt like a lifetime ago.

They stayed there for a while, Andy clutching his mother whilst Alex kept her arm in a protective position whilst comforting her son.

'It will be okay, sweetheart. It'll hurt but it'll get better.' Alex whispered as she wiped Andy's face with a spare tissue. Andy gave a small nod to her words but he didn't see how the pain would stop. How could it?

Eventually, Alex knew Gene would wonder where they were so, still holding Andy, she stood up and the two left the room. Alex kept an arm around her son's shoulders as she led him back down the stairs to CID.

They reached the office and all the speed and rush had gone, replaced by a few detectives quickly scanning reports before rushing off to where they needed to be.

Gene sat alone in his office, talking on the phone, barely getting a word in edge ways which clearly annoyed him. Alex opened the office door and closed it silently. She directed Andy to a small armchair in the corner and made sure her son was comfortable before perching on the arm of the chair and continuing to hug her son close to her side, her spare hand running through Andy's honey blonde locks.

After time, Gene finally managed to get a word in his conversation before grudgingly thanking the person on the other end and slamming the phone down.

'Bollocks.' He muttered as her leaned on the edge of his desk.

'What's wrong?' Alex asked.

'Roberts. He's still not happy with the whole situation. He thinks we're wasting police time. The bloody idiot.' Gene scowled at the ceiling before moving around the desk and sitting on the edge, his arms folded.

'You alright lad?' Andy gave a small nod as he wiped his face with the tissue Alex had given him. Gene rubbed his eye in distain. It was hard to believe the wreck of a boy sitting in front of him was the same happy smiling lad who only a few hours ago had proudly shown off his first written sentence.

'Has everyone gone down to the river bank?' Alex asked. Gene nodded.

'Hopefully we'll have the bastard behind bars soon enough.' Andy caught on with what they were saying and looked up. Gene caught his son's eye and gave him a small smile.

'Don't worry lad, the bastard ain't laying a finger on ya again. Trust the Gene Genie.'

**A/N: There we go, a new chapter done. So, will everyone catch Brice or what? Tune in next time for the next chappy, which shall be up soon. I would love to hear your opinions on this chapter so let me know in the reviews. **

**Until the next time, **

**Peace out Peeps xox **


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